The Badger's Predilection
by Ser Gibbleworth
Summary: Getting her acceptance letter was the happiest day of her life. From beginning school, forming everlasting friendships, facing hardships, and growing into a witch that embodies the true spirit of the Hufflepuff Badger, follow Beth through her school life and beyond in an arc parallel to Harry Potter's.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

* * *

37 Ivory Lane, Whitchurch, in Hampshire was one among many bricked houses that lined the River Test. Once a booming mill town, it had quieted and become a town mostly for those who commute to London for work. The neighborhood for which this duplex sat knew of the lively couple that live within number 37 Ivory Lane, for their shouts could often be heard around dinner time when they got into their evening row.

Mr. Hiddleston fairly aggressive with his neighbors and those nearby knew to stay clear. Craig Hiddleston worked for a construction company and was just as foul tempered as he looked, his sandy hair messily swept to the side and his blue eyes bright and arrogant. He neglected to shave his stubble and it had a poor habit of not going in fully just about his chin, failing to connect his thin mustache to the bottom of his scraggly beard. He was not too short or too tall with thick arms, a fat neck, and a beer belly that pushed pronounced against all of his shirts, as he preferred wearing those that had fit him some years ago.

His wife, Mrs. Hiddleston, worked in the local bar as a tender. She had a wry mouth on her and never put up with her husband's faults, which in this case were many. She would lament at work about how awful he was between smoking the house with cigars, drinking a rack of ale a day, and sleeping out on nights that she had frustrated him by interrogating him with her round, bright hazel eyes. Rebecca wasn't always as shrewd as she had become. In fact, there was a time where the lovely auburn bartender had been the talk of the town. A clever little minx who could charm and steal any man's heart and she had a tongue like a whip to match it. How Rebecca had ended up with Craig and why she remained was beyond many of the residents. She could have had anyone she wanted and she settled for a man with little money and many vices.

Unbeknownst to everyone else, Rebecca wanted to leave, but she couldn't. She was drowning in debt from her husband, her credit cards maxed out. If she left him, she'd be forced to raise the children without additional income and all of his debt, which was under her name, would be her responsibility. They abused each other verbally and if it ever got too out of hand, Craig would threaten to take the children away from Rebecca, despite there being little to leverage against her given his plights.

The only redeeming quality about the Hiddlestons were the two children they had that would play out in the yard during the day; Oliver and Bethany. The boy, Oliver, was a couple years older than his sister, but the two were nigh inseparable. Now that the boy was a teenager, he tried to shelter his sister as best he could from their parents fighting, but it was difficult to block their hollering out. Very much taking after his mother, he had a rush of dark auburn curls and fair skin, his eyes bright and blue as his father's.

Bethany was a chipper girl, seemingly unfazed by the goings on in her home. She would run circles around her brother, her sandy blonde plait bobbing against her back as her smiling hazel eyes and freckled nose faced her brother adoringly.

To everyone else they seemed normal enough despite the rocky relationship their parents held. And that was quite true. At least, until the day that Bethany had received a visitor.

"Craig, Jesus Christ could you put that out once in a while, especially while the children are eating?" Rebecca snapped, glowering at her husband as she brought over breakfast to the table for that fine Saturday morning in July.

"I'll put it out when it's done," Craig grumbled, turning his paper over and reading the sports section about the latest football game. "Damn, I missed a good game last night at work," he snarled, scanning over the results.

"You should miss games more often and maybe we'll be able to pay off our surmounting debt," Rebecca snipped tartly, nearly overflowing Oliver's cup with orange juice.

"Just forget about it. We'll take care of it," Craig said gruffly before raising his paper as if to hide his face from the glare that could have very nearly burnt through it.

"We'll need to go school shopping soon too," Rebecca began, on a different note, but it always rounded back to the same crux; money. "You've grown out of most of your clothes, haven't you Oliver? And I think Beth needs new dresses. After all, she's to begin secondary school this year," there was a gleam of adoration in their mother's eyes. Where her love was not spent on her husband, it was meticulously put into each of them.

"See if the boy will fit in some of my old clothes, he's getting on tall enough," Craig muttered without sparing a look toward his son. There was an inkling of disdain upon his face as if spending money on the children wasn't a worthy investment.

Rebecca opened her mouth to speak again, but instead, any angry words that were about to escape her parted lips were interrupted by a resounding tap on the entrance door. Her dark brows pulled together and she shut her mouth, curving them downward slightly before she glanced from Craig and then to her children. "Did you invite some friends over Oliver?" she asked him kindly. When he shook his head, Rebecca glanced at her husband. "Are you expecting company?"

"If I was, I wouldn't tell them to come here," he snorted, but was also curious as to who had knocked on their front door. Neighbors were terrified of bothering them and the childrens' friends never came over on their own.

"Well..." Rebecca drawled. "I suppose I'll go see who it is," she said finally, placing the pitcher of juice down and rubbing her hands hastily on her smock. The siblings craned their heads to glance down the hall to try and glimpse the visitor as the front door creaked open. There was a soft chattering between them and the door shut finally.

Footsteps drew nearer and Craig, without looking said, "Some sort of dandy salesman going door to door?"

"Uh... no," Rebecca's voice quavered a bit as she came into view and she was not alone.

Accompanying her was a tall, thin woman in dark emerald robes of velvet. Her cloak fluttered behind her and she had removed a pointed hat from her head to reveal her greyed hair which was tied in a low bun. Her countenance was pensive and calculating as her eyes swept the room from beneath her spectacles before fastening to little Beth who had a muffin halfway shoved in her gobb, dropping it when the woman's gaze focused on her.

"This is... Is... Professor McGunagill?" Rebecca glanced over hastily.

"McGonagall," the woman corrected in a thick, Scottish accent. "Good morning to you all."

"Professor? Professor of where dressed like that?" Craig set down his paper and was openly staring at this McGonagall and her queer attire.

"Hogwarts of course," McGonagall told him delicately.

"Hog-what? You let this loon into our house?" Craig's jowls quivered with fury as he glared at his wife, but Rebecca was astonishingly pale.

"She... she did a thing..." Rebecca squeaked, clutching the edge of the counter behind her to keep her solidly on her feet.

"Yes, I did. I know it will come as quite a shock to you all, but I'll explain more in just a moment," the professor chirped mildly. "However, according to the Statue of Secrecy there are a few topics we must go over before getting to the point. Before further ado," she reached into her sleeve and produced a yellowed envelope and inclined as to bend over the table and offer it to young Beth. "For you, Ms. Hiddleston."

"Me?" Beth questioned, accepting the envelope and glancing at her brother Oliver for support. All of this was rather strange, but Oliver nodded and smiled earnestly at her, as if he had more knowledge as to what was going on than she. Yet, she could not glean any information from her sibling and turned the letter over to see a crest imprinted in crimson wax against the seal of the envelope.

The shield was divided into four segments, one of a lion, a badger, a raven, and a snake. This was a school's crest, but she had never seen the likes of it before and she and her mother had spent a considerable amount of time contemplating which school she would attend. Beth was a talented girl, but there was a strange air about her that her peers sensed and strayed away from. Oher students parted away from her, whispered about Beth talking to herself; Bad-luck Beth they called her.

Oliver was the one who always made her feel as if she were a part of something rather than an outcast. Even during school no one wanted to associate with her, she knew that Oliver would be at home to welcome her with open arms and accept every strange fiber of her being.

Her fingers tugged the envelope open, the room sitting on held breaths as she unfurled the letter. Since she had an audience, Beth felt as if she was obligated to read it out loud.

"HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Ms. Hiddleston,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress," at the mention of the woman's name, her eyes turned toward McGonagall and suddenly the attire she was bedecked in suddenly made more sense. From her pointed hat to the long robes, this was not a common person's ensemble, but that of a witch. A second page was behind it with a list of supplies, but Beth did not have the chance to read it, for her father roared with tumultuous and condescending laughter.

"A witch?" his blue eyes danced maliciously on Minerva as he crossed his arms. "I know that Beth is a strange little girl, but we shouldn't be putting her hopes up for something that doesn't exist. Becky..." he glanced over at his wife who was still remarkably pale. "Did you put this woman up to this? Some elaborate scheme to make Beth feel better about herself?"

Before Rebecca even had the chance to answer, McGonagall drew herself up in a dignified, if not offended manner. "I assure you Mr. Hiddleston that this is not a joke. Have you not noticed anything odd that your daughter has done over the years? Perhaps things that cannot be explained?"

"No!" Craig snapped impudently.

"I have," Oliver told her, with round watery eyes. "Years ago Beth turned a dandelion into a finch. She doesn't remember it though, I think she was only 4 or 5."

The witch glanced back toward Bethany, perhaps impressed that she had managed such a feat.

"Don't humor her boy," Craig snarled, reaching over and cuffing Oliver hard aside the ear.

It all happened so quickly; Oliver's cry of pain, McGongall's frown, Rebecca's furious howl that her child had been struck, and creasing of Bethany's brow as she clutched the letter tight and dear to her chest. Voices rose and the house was becoming quite loud, the professor drew a wand from her sleeve as if threatening Craig to quiet himself. However, he'd gotten to his feet now and was rounding on Rebecca.

"STOP IT!" Bethany screamed, so loud and shrill that everyone was shocked into silence. Never did she raise her voice, the girl always had a contented demeanor, much more willing to blow with the wind or move along with the tides. Her cheeks were flushed violent red and her hazel eyes whipped furiously on Craig who returned the spiteful expression.

"You will not raise your voice at me, you won't-" but another word did not escape Mr. Hiddleston's mouth. No, all sound had vanished and in place of his mouth was a zipper that he could not pry open. Horrified by what had happened, the man continued to scrabble at his face. When he met no success, he scrambled across the table and lifted up a spoon to view a warped image of himself. Even with his forehead appearing aggressively large, he could make out the fast line that had been zipped shut to keep his foul mouth from ruining this encounter with Professor McGonagall even further.

Rebecca stared, open mouthed and gobsmacked, but after a moment she glanced at McGonagall. "Did you do that?" she asked quietly.

"I'm afraid not... That would have been your daughter," the witch nodded toward Bethany and was satisfied that a point had been made. "Now, young Ms. Hiddleston will need to attend Hogwarts in order to grow into her abilities and learn how to control and harness them. And while this all may very well be... shocking to say the least, rest assured that she would be in the best hands that Hogwarts has seen yet. Albus Dumbledore is the best Headmaster Hogwarts has ever had the honor of hosting."

Craig had settled into a chair by now, staring into the spoon, transfixed by the horror of his mouth. His distraction allowed for Rebecca to take a tentative step forward and sigh deeply, glancing over at her daughter. "Oh, I've always known that Bethany was special, but sometimes I thought I was just mad. I don't get much sleep sometimes around here between work and..." her eyes slipped toward her husband before she continued. "Anyways, I'm glad there's a school for... wizardry? I'm just afraid such a school sounds expensive and we don't really have too much money. Bethany already had a good scholarship for a boarding school in Essex."

"Hogwarts is free for all students, Mrs. Hiddleston. We also have funds for families that need a little assistance in purchasing school supplies. If needed we could arrange to sort that out for your daughter," McGonagall informed her politely. "But what I really must point out is that now that you know... Well, I'm afraid you'll have to keep this secret per the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy. After all, it's much safer for you all if no one is aware that Bethany is a witch."

"Why do we have to keep it a secret?" Oliver asked curiously.

"To keep Bethany safe... Plus," Rebecca snorted, "Who would believe us if we said Beth was a witch? They'd think we're raving mad, wouldn't they?"

"I guess they would," Oliver said, dwelling deeply on the idea as he nodded slowly.

"On the back of your school supplies list, there is a set of instructions on how to find Diagon Alley in London. That is where you shall buy all of your school supplies for the year," McGonagall instructed motioning the papers still clutched fast in Beth's fist. "Be aware that you shouldn't use magic outside of school while under the age of 17. Especially around Muggles, since that would be a breach of the Statute."

"Muggles?" Beth repeated in a hoarse voice, which was weak from shouting.

"Non-magical folk, such as your parents and your brother," she motioned to the other people in the room.

"Oh, alright," Beth registered as she glanced back down at her letter, uncrumpling it. "So... I'll go and get my supplies and then how do I get to school?"

"Once you accept attendance at the school, another letter will arrive by owl with your ticket for the train at King's Cross Station in London," McGonagall informed her.

"Can I accept through you? I don't know how to mail this back... you said another letter will be arriving by owl?"

A smile crept onto the witch's thin lips. "Indeed I did. Wizard post is sent by owl. I can add your name to the registry for attending this year. Now," her eyes slid between the parents. Craig was did diddling with his mouth and so she only addressed Rebecca. "Do you have any questions for me Mrs. Hiddleston?"

Rebecca was still a bit pale from the news and whatever McGonagall had shown her by the door. "I... don't think so. I've raised Bethany this long. I think another month and a half shant be too much of a challenge."

"Very well," McGonagall raised her wand, which caused Rebecca to visibly flinch, and with a swish of the tip, Craig's lips unzipped and he gasped for air as if he hadn't been aware he could breath out of his nose. He was still too shocked to utter a word when the professor turned on her heel. "Have a good day and I am eager to see how you do at school, Ms. Hiddleston." And with a loud crack, the witch vanished before their very eyes.

"Mom... What did she do at the door?" Oliver asked after the family had a few minutes to register what had just happened.

"She... she... Was a cat and then turned into a human!"

"Wow! That's amazing, I want to learn how to do that!" Beth beamed, her face brimming with happiness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

* * *

Bethany Hiddleston had always been an anomaly among her small family, though it often went unnoticed by her parents. Given that her father rarely gave either child attention, it was no surprise that he hadn't noticed the strange ongoings with Beth. Even Rebecca had convinced herself that what she 'might' have witnessed was just the result of poor sleep and the extreme stress of her everyday life. Only her brother Oliver noticed that Bethany's emotions would sometimes elicit queer occurences. She had not demonstrated as much knowledge of her magic since she was very young, but there had been fleeting moments when she knew that she wasn't like the other children at primary school.

Once, while on the monkey bars during recess, another girl by the name of Marcella had demanded that Beth vacate the bars so that she and her friends could play on them. Now, Marcella was not a small girl, rather she had thick marshmallow-like arms and eyes sunken in from how fat and moonlike her face was. However, since she was the largest 4th grader, no one liked to argue with her. She could even push boys their age around given how big she was.

Beth, rarely having a filter, requested why Marcella wanted to use the monkey bars, as it was quite unlikely that she'd even be able to hold on given her size. This observation had been the wrong choice of words and Marcella had pushed Beth to the ground before commandeering the monkey bars. To prove that Bethany was wrong, she grabbed the first bar, her chubby face contorting in effort as she reached for the next bar. Beth had been so upset, that when Marcella reached for the next bar, her fingers went right through it as if it were a projection of a bar, but it wasn't physically there. Given how much effort Marcella had put into swinging to the next bar, she had been relying on the connection to keep up good inertia. However, she grasped nothing and her plump figure slipped and smacked hard against the grass where she sat staring up at the bright blue sky.

"But it was there!" she'd heard the clique of girls squealing later in class, shooting quiet glares in Beth's direction. It wasn't the first oddity to happen, but definitely the most memorable seeing that it had been the class bully who had been the victim.

This event didn't deter Marcella or her posse. Instead, the girl seemed transfixed with finding an answer to what had happened, as if torturing Beth more would yield results. And it did of course, but always slight ones that appeared more like accidents. Once Marcella had slid down the hall and fallen face first into a dirty mop bucket. Another time Marcella's cronie Jasmine had tripped down a flight of stairs, finding her shoe laces to be tied together. Not even Marcella's food fiasco had been enough.

During lunch break, Beth had taken to sitting by herself at a corner table with a book of constellations opened in front of her. It was not abnormal that she would quietly read during breaks as many people associated her with bad luck and thought her attitude was peculiar. Fitting in had never quite been her strong suit and so she rarely tried anymore, though often she would cast her eyes out enviously at the other children who had been fast friends for years now.

Marcella marched up with her entourage trailing behind her, their sneering faces turning down on Beth as she kept her eyes glued to the book. "What're you reading there you dweeb?" before Beth could reach up, Marcella lunged over the table and snagged the book, scrutinizing the pages, the heads of Jasmine and Fiona glancing from either side of her. "Stars? Why would anyone want to know about stars? They all look the same anyway."

"Well, that's not quite true," Beth interjected, not unkindly, as her eyes trailed after the book as it swayed from Marcella's hand.

"Well, that's not quite true," Marcella mimicked, hitching her voice higher in a poor attempt to sound like Beth.

Jasmine and Fiona chortled with laughter before Marcella snapped the book shut and slammed it on the table.

"You think you're so clever, don't you Hiddleston? Do you think we're all beneath you? Hm?"

"I never implied-"

"Right, you do, always sitting on your own because no one else is good enough for your company," Marcella's voice had risen so that students at a nearby table could also hear the conversation. "Well, I see right through you. Maybe other people don't, but I hope they will one day."

Beth glanced at the tables close by, eyes watching her and kids leaning forward to whisper quietly about her. Was this true? Is this why Beth never had any friends? Beth had always wanted friends more than anything, but had never been able to make any.

Mutely, she reached over the table and slid her book back toward her. Picking up her lunch tray, Beth began to scurry around the table in hopes to find a place to sit outside where no one else had heard Marcella make this proclamation. As she came around the table, a foot was stuck out in front of her, and Beth tumbled hard, her chest and neck smacking into her tray of food, the milk carton exploding all over her and the spaghetti sticking to her blouse.

Laughter began around her as she looked up, noticing that her book had slid some feet in front of her when she had fallen. "Nice panties, Hiddleston," a boy at a table flanking her sniggered and in absolute horror, Beth realized that her skirt had gone up when she fell. Tears collected in the corners of her eyes as she sat up, trying to brush the spaghetti off and pull her skirt down at the same time.

Beth collected her book and left the tray of food on the ground, trying to escape the lunch room of laughing children as tears streamed down her cheeks.

While she was in the bathroom, trying to clean up, the laughter had died down to be replaced with horror and shock. The school could no longer serve spaghetti after that day as students insisted that it had looked like piles of writhing worms. Due to the amount of complaints and fear of the students of spaghetti being served, it was permanently removed from the school's lunch listing.

So, upon receiving her letter from Hogwarts, Beth had read it multiple times over, obsessing over the school she would be attending in a few weeks time. It meant that stupid Marcella and her cronies would not be anywhere near her, nor the other children that had occasionally joined in and jeering, calling her Bad-luck Beth. Ill things always befell those who tormented Beth, though nothing could ever be traced back to her.

Hogwarts stood as a pillar of hope, a place that she could start fresh and fit in. In a way, she'd always known she was different, but now that she knew she had magic her suspicions were finally confirmed. Never again would Beth had to look at Marcella's fat face. Maybe now she could make her own friends and finally experience a friend that wasn't her older brother and his friends.

_Knock, knock, knock!_

Quick and excited they resounded from her door, drawing her eyes up from the Hogwarts letter she had clutched fast in front of her, lying on her stomach on her bed. "Come in," she called, watching as Oliver darted through the threshold, grinning wildly at her.

"Well... Have you forgotten what day it is?" Oliver asked her, arching a brow at her in disbelief.

"What day..." Beth repeated dreamily before gasping and rolling out of her bed. "We're going to get my school supplies at Diagon Alley today, right?"

"Right. So you'd better get ready or the bus to London is going to leave without you," Oliver smirked, aware that these words would send his sister into a frenzy.

Beth's hazel eyes widened and she shoved her letter into her pocket, not minding that she had crumpled it even further. Sprinting for her wardrobe, she flung it open, rattling the doors as she seized a blouse and then paused. "What do you think I should wear? I don't think I have anything at all like Professor McGonagall," she sighed, wishing she had robes of her own to wear that would fit right in.

"Maybe just a dress then," Oliver suggested, pulling out one of the dresses that was intended to be Beth's Sunday best. Their mother had been a bit befuddled with Beth's choice of fashion, but the girl loved the short-sleeved black velvet dress with glittery gold stars on it. It had a nice collar and was fastened at the waist with a belt. Even if it did have the 'tacky' (as Rebecca referred to them) stars on them, at least Beth was presentable.

"Yeah, that one!" she agreed before pushing Oliver out of the room so she could change. Beth wasted little time in throwing it over her head and choosing her black mary-janes with stockings. She took a black headband and pushed her blonde hair back from her face, letting it fall down her back in thick waves. There, now she was all set. Fishing through her pajamas, she retrieved her Hogwart's acceptance letter and the school supplies list.

Oliver was not outside her door and so Beth was able to slide over to the bathroom to brush her teeth and then trundle down the stairs. Their father was not in the house and ever since the arrival of the Hogwarts letter and McGonagall, he'd been acting quite queer. No one complained, since the house had actually become rather quiet in comparison to how it usually was.

"Beth make sure you eat a little something," Rebecca insisted, motioning to some of the toast and marmalade on the table. Keenly aware that an excited Beth would have forgotten to eat, Becky gave her a stern look, watching the girl until she'd picked up a piece of toast and slathered some jam onto it.

A few minutes passed before Becky rinsed off most of the dishes in the sink and picked up her purse. For their day trip into London she had made certain to present herself well and was incredibly nervous to be heading into this 'alley' that she had never heard of before. She too had worn a dress more akin to Sunday's finest, worried about sticking out among the witches and wizards, but like her daughter, she had nothing similar to McGonagall. Her auburn hair had been pinned in a neat bun and she also wore a dress in a slightly outdated fleshy pink color.

"Let's get down to the bus stop, we want to get to London early enough to find our way around. Beth do you have those instructions on how to get to Diagon Alley?"

Beth nodded her head dramatically, pulling the parchment from her pocket in a balled fist and waving it above her head. "We have to go, we don't want to be late!" she exclaimed before dashing for the front door.

The trio trotted down their road and toward the nearest bus stop. Since Whitchurch was a commuting town to London, the route was active with buses headed to various parts of London. Be that it was a Saturday morning, the majority of commuters were at home and only those who wished to go to London for recreational fun were gathered around the stop, waiting patiently for the 7:45 bus to arrive. Seeing that it was early, only a few other folks bothered to be there with the rising sun.

"Good morning Rebecca, heading into London with the children for some fun today?" an old woman by the name of Mrs. Gilbert asked, sitting on the bus bench beneath the shade, her cane crooked in front of her.

"School shopping, Mrs. Gilbert," Rebecca corrected politely.

"Oh, that sounds fun. But do you need to go all the way to London for that?"

"I..." Rebecca paused, thinking of an excuse. "Thought I'd make a day out of it. It'll be good to spend some time out of town."

Mrs. Gilbert nodded in agreement. "Aye, I think so too," and then she dropped her voice, as if the children wouldn't hear her. "And no Craig I see," but the old woman was a bit deaf and both Oliver and Beth could hear her clearly.

Rebecca's cheeks flushed slightly and she shook her head. "He's been working more since Beth got accepted into her secondary school," she admitted honestly. It was true, their father had been working more and had the pay stubs to prove it.

"Hmph, maybe he's trying to set himself straight then," Mrs. Gilbert grumbled before raising her voice back to normal again. "And little miss Bethany is getting her school supplies in London? She must have been accepted into a prestigious school then. What school are you going to dear?"

Bethany opened her mouth, but Becky shot her a silencing look. "Oh just a small school up in Northern Scotland. It's not very well known, but it's for highly gifted children."

"Ah, you must be so proud of Beth then," Mrs. Gilbert acknowledged.

"Yes... Yes, I am," Rebecca answered earnestly, the conversation ended as the brakes of the approaching bus began screeching to a halt. They let Mrs. Gilbert on the bus first before boarding, pairing their fare to London and taking a row of three seats. "Let's not talk about anything... on the bus there. Just because of how close we are to everyone," she suggested, setting her purse on her lap and opening it to cluck over her wallet and the mess of bills and change within.

While Rebecca went to sorting out the contents of her purse and rearranging it, Oliver turned to Beth who had been wanting to talk all about what might be in Diagon Alley. "I hope you won't be too bored without me around after school now," Beth told her brother, who attended a local secondary school rather than boarding.

Oliver gave a complacent shrug and then grinned at her. "It's where you belong and if you're happy, I'm happy. Anyways, we can always send letters, right? And you can come home for holiday?"

"I believe so, but it doesn't mention that anywhere on the letter," Beth admitted, a little pit forming in her stomach. Leaving Whitchurch meant that she wasn't going to have her best friend with her. Perhaps it was becoming time that she branched out from her brother so they could grow independently, but she'd always had so much difficulty getting on with kids her age.

Oliver sensed his sister's nerves and gave her a reassuring smile. "I think you're going to do well there and make tons of friends too."

"You think so?" Beth's voice was barely above a whisper, as if speaking this wish too loud would prevent it from happening.

"I know so," Oliver insisted. "You're a good person Beth."

"Thanks..." she murmured, putting her head on Oliver's shoulder as her mind began to work overtime. Often, she would drift off into these little daydreams, imagining what might happen in the future and what she would do. Her eyes her hazy and unfocused, glancing across the aisle to watch as the scenery passed by in the opposing window.

The bus ride to London was just a bit over an hour. Rebecca was familiar enough with London to pick their way to Charing Cross Road where they had been instructed to find a location called the Leaky Cauldron.

"I swear I've walked down here plenty of times and never noticed a place called the Leaky Cauldron," Rebecca remarked thoughtfully as her children flanked her.

"Well that's it, isn't it?" Beth inquired, gesturing to darkly painted outside of a pub that had a sign handing down from it of a cauldron, a rag hanging from a hole out of the bottom to emphasize that cauldron was, indeed, leaky.

"That?" Rebecca paled considerably. "That's just a broken-down shop. It says closed right on the front of it."

"No it doesn't," Beth said, glancing at her family members with disbelief. "That's it."

"Are you sure?" even Oliver was questioning her.

Beth turned the instructions over in her hands and let out a soft, "Oh... Look here, it says that Muggles... you two, won't be able to see the same storefront that I see. It'll look like a dilapidated storefront to you. But this is it."

Rebecca accepted the letter from her daughter and her brows eased up slowly. "I... suppose it is. It's unlocked then?"

"Only one way to find out," Beth mused, taking a step forward and turning the iron doorknob. It twisted in her palm and the door squeaked open. No one on the street behind them seemed to notice that Beth had opened the door and was gesturing for her mother and brother to follow.

The Hiddlestons entered the Leaky Cauldron to find a rather dark pub that was extremely outdated. It was small and dingy, but was oddly welcoming. Well, until the innkeeper turned their way while using a rather dirty rag to wipe out the inside of a tankard. He had a bit of a hunched back, a bald head, and slightly rotten teeth. He was certainly very old and took immediate notice of them as they stepped past the threshold, his eyes raking over their attire.

"Are you Mr... Tom?" Beth asked him, referring to her letter that had mentioned addressing the publican Tom for assistance in getting to Diagon Alley.

He gave her a toothy grin, his face wrinkling up like a walnut shell, and nodded. "Are you 'ere for school supplies, miss?"

"Yes sir, we're trying to get to Diagon Alley," Beth explained.

"Ah yes, then you'd best follow me this way. There's a path to Diagon Alley just through here," Tom set down what he was cleaning and came around the bar, his legs a bit stunted, so he moved rather slow.

In the time that it took them to get to the path that Tom referred to, they passed by many robe clad customers. A few witches were sat at one table with magazines labeled Witch's Weekly, chatting over the segment about the newest fashion and fitted hats versus pointed. A few chairs down a man sat with a cup of tea, nonchalantly stirring the spoon with a twirl of his fingers.

Oliver nudged Beth hastily to point out an owl soaring in through an open window that deposited a parcel in front of an unsuspecting wizard reaching a paper called the Daily Prophet. He was so startled by the package being dropped that he toppled over his cup of tea all over his robes and snow white beard.

Oliver and Beth concealed their snickering as they left the pub's main loft area and drew upon a narrow hallway and toward a door that resembled a broom cupboard. When Tom opened the door a brick wall greeted them a few feet in and Rebecca began to puff up, almost as if she didn't believe any of this. However, Tom drew a wand from inside his pocket and began rhythmically tapping various bricks in a manner that certainly meant he was being deliberate with each stroke. Finally, with a last tap, the brick wall shuddered and shivered before a low groan was ensued by the bricks moving back in a manner almost like unzipping. With each brick moved aside, a busy street with many witches and wizards began to come into view. They couldn't have been more inappropriately dressed and their clothing stuck out like a sore thumb as Tom stepped out of the way to let them through.

"This is Diagon Alley. You'll want to go straight down until you see a large white marble building called Gringotts. Have to exchange your Muggle money for wizard," Tom informed them, raising a knobbly finger to point down the busy road and around a bend to a building they could not yet see.

"Thank you sir," Beth said for her mother who was staring open mouthed at where the brickwall had been a moment ago. Seizing her mother's hand she tugged her along behind her and into the busy street of Diagon Alley.

Beth wished she had more than just one set of eyes, because the street was so wonderfully peculiar, that her head was constantly whipping around to try and draw in all the minute details. The buildings themselves were styled in an old manner... no, they simply were as old as they looked. Roofs sagged and buildings were cocked at angles that certainly were not plausible for architectural reasons if not for the magic that held them cocked at these weird angles or drooping manners. Bright windows lit up with their wares, stacked with many different items, some of the likes that she never seen before.

One store had various jars of animal parts including shark liver and eagle eyes, other jars stuffed to the brim with dried out plants. They moved slowly through the street due to how busy it was and because they were all trying to draw in the details and oddities around them, including a shop filled with exotic animals. Beth was especially impressed with the fruit bats hangings upside down, but was keenly aware that she wasn't permitted to bring one to Hogwarts per the letter.

Eventually, the narrow alley grew wider and opened up to a split in the road, divided by a mammoth marble building, the white blinding against the darkly painted storefronts on the rest of Diagon Alley. In contrast to the old english style of the rest of Diagon Alley, the tottering building was held up by great pillars in the front and had more of a roman elegance that was out of place among the wooden storefronts. Golden works were on the front of the bank, indicating that they were, unmistakably, at the correct location.

"Looks fancy," Oliver observed as they approached the bronze doors where each was flanked by a stout man... no, they were not men.

Rebecca restrained a squeal, covering her mouth in an attempt to hide her horror at the long eared and wrinkly, grumpy creature that was standing post in a uniform of scarlet and gold. They entered into a vaulted chamber with even more of these creatures. Gorgeous chandeliers hung from the ceiling, three of them total. Each desk was posted with a shrewd being, the scribbling of the quills against parchment audible as they worked. Each desk was uniform, a candle seated on the left, wax dripping down the front of the wooden desks.

The Hiddlestons hurried behind a wizard who appeared to be waiting his turn. One of the beings stood from his seat and leveled his gaze. "Next," his voice was coarse and high, his open mouth revealing very sharp teeth.

"Oh heavens," Rebecca gasped, fanning herself as she tried not to stare at them.

It only took a few quiet moments before another of these creatures lifted his head and called, "Next," in a deep, ruddy voice. When they got to his high desk, he leaned over and glowered at them with his small eyes. "Yes?"

"I-I-I'm here to exchange my money," Rebecca stammered, rummaging in her purse as she fumbled for her wallet.

"Excuse me sir, but what are you?" Beth asked nonplussed.

Rebecca paused to gape at her child, as if she shouldn't have dared to ask such a question. But the banker did not appear bothered by her inquiry. "A goblin," he said shortly before turning his gaze back to Rebecca who had faltered in searching for her wallet.

Finally she fished the wallet out and produced 800 pounds in large bills.

"Mom, where did you get all that money?" Oliver hissed as the goblin began writing down something in a ledger and reached into his till to exchange the tender.

Rebecca glanced down at her son, her arms crossed as she tapped her foot albeit nervously. "I do have my own savings separate from your father for you children. It's not enough to pay for a fancy school, but I don't need the assistance of Hogwarts to buy school supplies," she sniffed, the idea of handouts absolutely appalling to her. In truth, she'd had a college fund for both of the children and dipped into it for yearly supplies. However, she now expected that buying all the appropriate witch things for Beth would be expensive.

"Here is your coin. That's 160 Galleons, 10 Sickles, and 26 Knuts," the goblin informed her,pushing over a large mound of gold, silver, and copper coins in their direction.

Rebecca stared at the mound and after a moment, not knowing how to fit it properly into her wallet, simply lifted her purse and scooped all the coins into it. "Thank you," she squeaked as they were given a hand written receipt. "Come now," but her request was more of a plea, eager to get out of the bank as soon as possible. "Where do we need to go first, Beth?"

"Robes first. I need three sets of plain work robes in black, one plain pointed hat, also black, one pair of protective gloves, dragon hide or similar, and on winter cloak, black with silver fastenings," she read of, smoothing the crumpled parchment so rattle it off.

"I think I saw a place called Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, purple store front," Oliver remarked, starting the family off in the direction of the store he had noticed.

The purple paint on the storefront was a bit faded and needed a good painting, but they were able to enter into the warm environment. A very squat woman adorned in mauve was standing behind a counter. Her greying hair was perfectly groomed and she had a set of red horn rimmed glasses sitting on her nose. She smiled brightly at a set of customers entering.

"Hello there, first year at Hogwarts?" her eyes went between Oliver and Beth as if trying to decide which one of them was going to school. Beth wagged the paper in her hand and the witch settled her gaze and smiled. "I expect there will be a lot more students coming in later in the day, so you've caught me at a rather good time. Let me go grab some robes that'll be about your size."

The woman, most likely Madam Malkin for which the shop was named, returned with a set of dress robes in black. She hustled Beth up onto a stool and had her pull over the robes before a measuring tape snaked out from her sleeve and began measuring Beth on its own accord. It took all of about 20 minutes for the entire ordeal, in which Beth was able to purchase all of the clothing needed for school for a total of 53 Galleons and 11 sickles.

Rebecca was not too upset by the cost, as she had been expecting uniforms to run a bit higher than what they paid, but clucked about hidden expenses elsewhere that they might not be prepared for. They approached a shop by the name of Flourish and Blotts to pick up the collection of school books for Beth. The front of the store contained displays of spell books many of which were gold embossed.

Instead the walls were completely covered with books, some even stacked on piles on the floor. Beth was so flabbergasted by the arrangement of them that her jaw dropped open and she began wandering around despite her mother trying to wrestle her away to get what was needed. Even Oliver was interested by the books and followed his sister around as she picked up a book called, _Astronomy, Centaur Observations and Predictions_.

Rebecca had managed to find the assistant manager of the store, who had the book list for each year of Hogwarts students. In spite of this, Beth had began to collect various books that she deemed interesting, including _Hogwarts, A History_, a tiny magenta book called _Transfiguration Theory_, and _The Book of Charms & Spells_.

When she returned to her mother, Rebecca had sorted out which books were needed and had them piled neatly on the counter to pay. "What are those?" she asked Beth, glancing down at what she had collected.

"Can I get these too? This one is only 2 Galleons, this one is... 1 I believe... And the third is 3, but I really do think it'll be useful," Beth bartered, proposing them.

Rebecca pursed her lips, but after a moment sighed in mild defeat. "Very well, if they'll help you in school that's only 6 Galleons total..." she murmured, letting Beth put them up on the counter with a triumphant grin. "But nothing else that isn't on the list," she scolded half-heartedly.

"Not even a pet?" Beth asked innocently.

"Yeah there were some cool owls outside. Beth needs an owl so she can write us," Oliver agreed, having been staring at a painting on the wall that was moving.

"Only if we have enough money left out, pets are not necessary," Rebecca scowled, paying for the pile of books and then considering them for a long moment. She had brought a larger burlap bag to wear on her shoulder, but she considered how heavy it might be.

"I can put some in my backpack, mom," Oliver offered.

"Thank you," she sighed, fitting four books in Oliver's backpack and stuffing the rest in the large burlap bag before they departed Flourish and Blotts.

"I still need... a wand, a cauldron, pewter, standard size 2, a set of glass or crystal phials, a telescope, and a set of brass scales," Beth observed, which daunted her mother who only heard that she would need to carry a cauldron. "I can carry the cauldron and put things in it if we get that first."

A throng of shops allowed for them to collect these materials. The cauldron set them back another 15 Galleons at Potage's Cauldron Shop. The telescope cost 5 Galleons. A set of glass phials only cost 1 Galleon and were cheaper when compared to the crystal. The brass scale was 3 Galleons to purchase at Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment. Parchment, ink, and quills had also been added to a brand new school bag, totalling another 10 Galleons for the lot.

The family was beginning to grow weary from all of their travels, making circles around Diagon Alley to revisit shops that they needed to select an item from the list and had missed previously. Their final stop brought them out to purchase a wand at a shop called Ollivanders. The front of this store was considerably older than the other buildings wedging it in place. It was also in a deeper state of disrepair with cracking stone and slanted windows that had warped with age. A small window displayed a dusty pillow where a wand was sitting.

However, when they drew up to the front door, they were slightly disappointed to find a sign hanging on the shop door; _'We are closed due to a rush of Spattergroit among Ollivander employees and hope to be back in business soon. You will be able to find wands for sale in Carkitt Market, at Wands by Gregorovitch. Our apologies, Garrick Ollivander._'

"Spattergroit? What do you suppose that is?" Oliver asked, his eyes turning to his sister as if she might subconsciously know.

"Beats me, but it sounds bad," she shrugged.

"Where's Carkitt Market?" Rebecca was asking herself quietly, horror crossing her face as they glanced around a bit lost in the moment as witches and wizards passed them by.

Sensing her mother's worry about bothering one of the busy passerbyers, Beth wandered off and found the nearest sitting resident. "Excuse me, but would you be able to tell me how to get to Carkitt Market?"

The wizard had been reading a copy of the paper, again, the Daily Prophet. Glancing over the top of the furls, which she could see various moving pictures, he moved the pipe in his mouth to the corner and glanced down the road. "If ye head down that way you'll see a sign post with bright violet lettering, it points to Carkitt Market. Head down that road and it'll take ye there," he informed her gesturing further down Diagon Alley.

"Thank you sir," she bowed her head politely and scampered back to her mother who was still fretting that the wand shop was closed. "Moooom," she drawled, a triumphant smile spreading slowly over her face. "It's this way, I asked someone."

"You what?" Rebecca said absentmindedly, glancing around and noticing the wizard sitting on a crate. He smiled at her and gave a small dandy wave before returning to his paper. "Oh... Good."

"Just a bit longer mom," Oliver said, taking his mother's arm and patting it reassuringly.

Typically, Rebecca was a very confident woman, but among a world she did not understand there was a crippling sense of unknowing that frightened her dearly. Even the strangely dressed witches and wizards daunted her unless they worked in a shop and had a friendly smile since they were getting paid to be in the store.

Bethany led the way back down Diagon Alley in the direction that the wizard had been kind enough to tell her. She spotted the tall sign pointing in a fork in the road where the street widened and the path turned to cobblestone. 'Carkitt Market' it read in brilliant purple lettering which had a metallic sheen to it. Turning on her heel she snapped toward the adjacent shopping area. Where Diagon Alley had been old, crammed together buildings, it appeared as if Carkitt Market was considerably newer.

There was still an old english feel to it, as if the structures had been crafted toward the latter end of the 19th century. Carkitt Market was mostly enclosed by a tall glass dome which would keep the weather off of those meandering through their day in the marketplace. Many of the storefronts here had paint in better states as the weather did not strip it. Wands by Gregorovitch had a lavender colored from with golden lettering. It was stuffed in a corner, against two neighboring stone walls and had a slightly different structure than the other shops. The windows were reminiscent of Lutheran churches and a witch in a smock stood neatly at the door.

"I cannot believe that Ollivander has come down the Spattergroit, how most unfortunate," a thickly accented voice said from behind the counter, speaking with one of the associates. "I vouldn't have believed it if he hadn't sent me a letter to come down here myself. Usually I am at Gregorovitch Zauberstabe to help Durmstrang students choose their vands, but Garrick was quite insistent on me being here today, even if ve do not always see eye to eye... As if-"

The old man turned, his hair filled with wavy silver white hair that fell to his shoulders and a close, neatly kempt beard. His brows were heavy over his dark, stormy eyes and he took immediate notice of the three patrons that had just entered his shop.

His eyes lit up and he brightened considerably from the conversation which seemed to have been growing bored as the employee backed away from him slightly. "You are a Hogvarts student? First year?" the man asked, eyes picking out Beth immediately as she appeared the right age for school.

"Yes sir," she nodded.

"Very vell then, very vell. Come here, ve vill select your vand accordingly," he motioned her forward.

This shop was not dusty and boxes were neatly arranged by core and wood. "Are you the owner?" Beth asked curiously as the man shuffled along the wall and picked a box.

"Yes, I am Mykew Gregorovitch. I am the maker of all of these vands," he motioned to the room around them and then approached with a box, opening it and revealing a warm, but small wand. "8 inches, cherry vood, vith a unicorn hair core," he placed it in her hand and after a moment, decided it did not fit. "No, no," he murmured before moving along the walls again.

Beth didn't think this process would take too long, but Gregorovitch had difficulty finding a wand that suited her. She began wondering how anyone could choose a wand here without taking a good deal of time. Finally, the wand maker moved to a smaller sections. Where each shelf had been labeled, this one was labeled with 'Exotic Wands'. He appeared a bit haggard as he reached up and slipped out a box, holding its slender form against him.

"I have not had this many issues with a Hogvarts student yet," Gregorovitch remarked as he opened the box, which was more decadently decorated than the others he had selected up until this point. Silver and gold filigree were etched into the merlot colored box and he removed a beautifully crafted wand.

The wood was molted between pale and a warm brown with lines of age and warped rings from the tree whence it came. Gold had been inlaid in the handle, creating an intricate grip that resembled swirling outlines of clouds and met at the pommel where a tiger's eye stone was set flush. A piece of teal silk had been knotted around the top of the handle where the gold began and the ribbons fall down to nearly meet the hilt.

The moment the wand touched her hand dry warmth overcame here and she could smell of rain, toasted marshmallows, old books, lime, and caramel engulfed her. A few sparks flew from the tip, teal, gold, turquoise, and cocoa.

Gregorovitch's brows rose, removing the slightly disdainful expression from his face. "Vell, Ollivander always said the vand chooses the vizard but I rarely have seen it so," he mused, mostly to himself. "That is the vand for you little vone," taking it back from her and inspecting his own work with admiration. "I must admit I am a bit taken aback. Vis is a sweetgum vand vith a simurgh feather core, 12 inches perfectly, rather sturdy. An excellent vand, one I made after visiting Turkey and Armenia. Simurgh are almost like a middle eastern Phoenix, but more similar to the Augurey as they will self-combust, summoning rain when they cry as they know vhen rain is most desperately needed."

The wand maker did not need prodding to explain his work, especially since this was one of the more eclectic pieces given its foreign core and wood. "It is a very vell rounded wand, good as all magics, but excels at care of magical creatures, potions, herbology, and defence against the dark arts. It sat in Zauberstabe for a while, one of my younger works, not particularly appealing to Scandanavian vizards being so flashy. So... it came to be here. once I opened this shop. It has been waiting a long time for a vitch or vizard to pick it up that is does not cause a rain cloud to appear above their head," he let out a low chuckle. "Yes, now I see why Ollivander likes to do this so much."

Gregorovitch hurried behind the counter and began trussing the wand up in its box, careful to wrap a lovely ribbon around it, and then placed it within an ornate violet bag that matched the exterior hue of the shop. "Any time the vand seems veak, let it soak in vine and sheep fat. And you'll have to change out the silk on the vand once a year. It likes very high quality silk and performs better vith it. Now... that vill be 30 Galleons."

Rebecca and Oliver had been quietly watching during the entire ordeal and by now, Becky had been able to understand the conversion for Galleons to Pounds. Her face drained of color, they had been making good progress thus far, but she had not been expecting the wand to be nearly so much.

Sensing her trepidation as she shakily reached into her purse, Gergor raised his brows at her. "The vand is exotic. That is the price for all exotic vands. Ve could go with something that does not suit her but..." he considered the bag for a long moment and then sighed. "I vill take 10 Galleons off because of how vell the vand suited her, but Simurgh feathers are very rare. The handle has gold inlays and tiger's eye on the pommel... Quite a bit of vork vent into this."

"20 Galleons it is. Thank you Mr. Gregorovitch," Rebecca said, appeased by the discount, paying him the golden coins and handing the bag over to her daughter.

"Thank you!" Beth told him quickly, bowing swiftly and nearly smacking her head against the counter. "I'll take good care of it," she promised.

"I know you vill. Best of luck at Hogvarts," Gregor bid, waving slightly at them as they exited the shop. His voice could be heard slightly to his employee that had watched from behind the counter. "I was really not expecting that vand to go to a Mudblood, but the vand chooses who it vants-"

The family hurried back onto Diagon Alley, making a pit stop at a shop on the edge where it turned into Carkitt Market. Sugarpulum's Sweet Shop had more candy than either child had ever seen in one shop and in addition, the candy that stocked the shelves was so queer and yet wonderful. From Liquorice Wands to Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, even Rebecca couldn't hold back her amusement and intrigue as she read the back of the Chocolate Frog box. They left a few Galleons poorer, but loaded with sweets for a treat and also for the bus ride home.

"Just... Don't open those Chocolate Frogs on the bus!" Rebecca was saying, having been absolutely terrified when hers began jumping around.

"Hey mom try this bean," Oliver persisted, having a box of Bertie Bott's in his hands, offering a green speckled bean.

Rebecca popped it into her mouth, her face screwing up. "Oliver, my God! This tastes awful!"

"It's boggey flavoured I think," he snickered, inspecting the side of the box where there was a diagram with flavors. His eyes slid by the box and set on a shop called Eeylops Owl Emporium, which various cages were hanging outside with owls kept inside. "Mom! Owls! We have to get one for Beth, remember?"

"How much do you reckon owls are? I don't want to spend all of this money today," Rebecca and the children stopped in front of the store, looking between the speckled barn owl, and a pale white snowy owl.

"Can we ask how much this one is?" Beth had wandered up to a cage with a great horned owl perched in it. The ear tufts trembled as the ashy owl blinked open keen yellow eyes and glanced down at her.

"Never seen one of those before," Oliver commented, stepping beside his sister.

"It's a Great Horned Owl," she informed him knowledgeably. "And that's because it's an American Owl, just like Snowy Owls don't really live in Britain either."

"Sounds like it'll be expensive," Rebecca sighed, reaching up to unhook the cage so they could enter the shop and inquire about it. "Excuse me, could you tell me how much this here owl is?"

The shopkeep glanced up and rattled off, "15 Galleons for the Great Horned Owl."

"That's doable," Rebecca murmured, checking her purse and nodding to herself. "We'll take him... or her."

"Him," the employee confirmed, accepting the coins from Rebecca and hastily writing a receipt.

Hefting all the materials from their day around Diagon Alley, Rebecca looked at her children triumphantly. "Very successful day I must say! Let's get headed home."

While the family skirted back toward the Leaky Cauldron to go back out to the Muggle London, Oliver glanced into the cage where the owl sat. "What are you going to name him?" he inquired.

"Ser Gibbleworth," Beth answered through a mouthful of Pumpkin Pasty, her eyes shining the brightest that Oliver had ever seen in his life. This was where Bethany Hiddleston belonged.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

* * *

The Hiddleston house had become quite an anomaly since the arrival of the Hogwarts acceptance letter and the weeks leading up to Bethany's attendance. No longer were there evening rows between Rebecca and Craig. Strangely, the news of his daughter being a witch seemed to set the man straight. Well, as straight as Craig could be bent, there was no denying that he was still acting a bit out of character and that his astounding reserved nature and change of heart had made Rebecca suspicious. But, with all of the overtime that Craig had began taking, the idea of finally paying off their debts was suddenly becoming a possibility.

Bethany spent the rest of the summer in her room, drawing pictures in her books, making notes on the sides of the pages, and turning each into her own as her eyes scanned through them and she absorbed all the information like a sponge. She could not wait to put this information into application and was counting the days down with Gibbles (short for his full name of Ser Gibbleworth) on a calendar on her wall. She bonded quickly with the Great Horned Owl, the girl had always had a knack for animals more than humans.

She would leave her window open at night as to let Gibbles fly around and hunt and he could return in the morning to sleep the day away in his cage. While she was reading and he roused from his slumber he would exit his cage and watch her flip through the pages, almost as if he could also understand the writing.

Oliver would visit and Bethany would share what she had learned. Much of it was very complex and she began in sections that Oliver had little background knowledge in, but he kept an open ear for her all the same. Soon enough they would be separated for the first time in their lives and while Oliver hoped the best for his sister, he was also worried that she might face a similar situation at Hogwarts as she did in Whitchurch.

The last two weeks melted away and soon enough, they were back on a bus bound for London with Beth's trunk, leather pack, and owl cage rattling in a row of seats on its own. Again, it was only Beth, Oliver, and Rebecca, as Craig had not taken the day off of work to see his child off, but no one was particularly surprised or nonplussed by this.

"Platform 9 and ¾ s?" Rebecca was now scrutinizing the ticket for the train to Hogwarts. "I've never heard of such a thing. A three quarters of a platform? This has got to be some sort of joke."

"If we can't find it, I bet we'll be able to pick out others going there. Especially if they've got owls too," Oliver pointed out.

There were other passengers on the bus who were warily eyeing Gibbles, who was a bit ruffled from the method of travel. "Just when I think things are odd enough," Rebecca mumbled to herself, shoving the ticket back into her purse and glancing over at her daughter. "Are you excited? You've had your nose in your books ever since we bought them."

"Very... I just..." there was a slight bit of hesitation and she glanced between her mother and then her brother. "I'm nervous."

"Oh you have nothing to worry about," Rebecca insisted absentmindedly, but she was unaware of the struggle that Beth had endured growing up thus far. How easy it was to turn a blind eye to a suffering child, especially since the girl was too embarrassed to own up to her loneliness at school. There were too many important adult things that Rebecca had to worry about and Beth had never wanted to admit her own.

"King's Cross Station," the bus called, lurching to a halt. Several other patrons hurried off first and the Hiddlestons unpacked the equipment and loaded it on a trolley. The train station was filled to the brim with folks, each trying to hastily get to their destinations. From the looks of it, they were all Muggles, and picked out wizard folk was going to be a lot more difficult than originally had been assumed.

They managed to get their way to the 9th platform before becoming lost and weary. Rebecca's anxiety suffered the worst of it as she kept glancing down at her watch, terrified that they were going to miss the train. "Dear me, dear me," she muttered beneath her breath, but again it was her daughter her kept a clear head and managed to hone in on another family hurrying down the platform.

A woman was pushing a trolley that had a trunk and wrapped parcels on it. What gave her away, towing four red haired children with her, was her extremely outdated attire which appeared to have been completely knitted and crocheted by hand. "Come on now, we can't have your brother being late for his first year at Hogwarts. Charlie please keep hold of Fred and George. Dear me, I can't believe I thought bringing them would be manageable," she hissed, directing her gaze to the second oldest boy who glanced at the twin toddlers, stumping their way behind their mother.

Bethany grabbed the edge of the trolley her mom was pushing and began pulling it after the ginger family. They halted in front of a brick pillar, gazing up at it expectantly as if a door would appear out of nowhere. The woman's head turned when she noticed that the Hiddlestons were lurking nearby. However, her gaze softened after spotting Gibbles.

"Are you off to Hogwarts too, dear?" she asked kindly.

"Yes ma'am. We were just wondering how to get on the platform," Bethany told her, glancing over at the peculiar pillar, waiting for the answer to spring out at her.

"Oh! Well, you've got to run through that pillar here. It leads to Platform 9 & ¾ s. Don't you worry now, it's not solid. It's William's first year at Hogwarts too," she gestured to her eldest son who had long red hair.

"Neat, my name is Bethany Hiddleston-"

"Five minutes Beth, we really should go through so William and his family also have time," Rebecca interrupted hastily, giving the red haired woman apologetic smile.

"Fine, fine," Beth sniffed before turning her gaze to the pillar. The red haired family let them go first. Every fiber of her being screamed and protested about running toward the brick pillar. She just knew that it would be quite painful if she collided with it and was then rammed in the back with the trolley full of school supplies. But she never connected with the wall and she passed through the threshold and into a much dimmer platform.

Steam billowed as the glorious engine began warming itself for the trip ahead. With a gentle chuckle to herself, the Hiddlestons moved out of the way to let the other family through. Now, Beth was finally able to properly greet them. Rebecca began fervently speaking to the other mother, imploring her with questions and stammering about how all of this was new and foreign. Mrs. Weasley (as she soon introduced herself) tried to ease Becky's nerves as much as possible.

"Are your family all wizards?" Beth asked William.

"Yup, my mom and dad are and theirs before them. Is your father a wizard and your mom a Muggle?" he answered, returning a question to her.

"No, they're both Muggles. I just learned about magic this summer," she admitted, albeit dolefully as she came to realize this wasn't exceedingly common based on all of the other students she could see with their wizarding parents around the train.

"Doesn't matter too much. Not like having parents who have magic gives you a head start," William shrugged nonchalantly. "You can call me Bill by the way. Only my mother calls me William."

"Beth is fine for me too," she said, a little bit too eagerly, thrilled that she was making her first friend this soon. "I-uh-Did you read any of your books?" she gushed.

"Did I? I read them all, but I found most of my interest between A History of Magic and Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them."

"Really? I loved Fantastic Beasts... I also got a few extra books. Transfiguration Theory is my favorite. It really expands on the ideas in our Beginner's Guide, which I thought was relatively rudimentary," Beth oozed excitement, having someone to talk about academics with that also was just as eager about learning.

"You got additional books?" Bill was clearly amused by this.

The engine to the Hogwarts Express blew and the conductor shouted down the platform. It was going to be leaving soon. Bill's question went unanswered as the mothers hurried forward to their respective children and began fussing over them.

"Make sure you write us, Gibbles was purchased so that we could keep in touch with you," Rebecca said, straightening Beth's black headband and kissing her on the brow. "Oh, Molly made me feel so much better about this. Apparently you're in really good hands with Albus Dumbledore. Please be good and I'd love to hear all about how you're doing."

"Mom you're smothering her," Oliver frowned and Rebecca stepped back, tears twinkling in her eyes. While she reached into her purse for a tissue, Oliver stepped forward and placed his hands on his little sister's shoulders. "You're already on your way to making one friend. You're going to do fine here sis. I better get letters from Gibbles or else," he embraced her tightly, holding onto her dearly. It would be months before they saw each other again.

"Thanks Ollie. I'll miss you," she said earnestly and she would. Going to Hogwarts was both thrilling and terrifying.

"I'll miss you too kiddo, but remember I'm always here," he tapped her heart and the train whistled again. "Now go get on the train before you miss it!"

Beth swung her pack onto her back and dragged her trunk along in one hand and Gibble's cage in the other. She managed to skirt on the train right behind Bill and followed him to an empty compartment. "It's alright if I sit with you, right?"

"'Course," Bill shrugged, helping Beth get her trunk on the rack above the seats as he was taller than her.

Beth withdrew the transfiguration book from her pack and offered it to him. "This was what I was talking about before," she said, only realizing that she'd made a bunch of stupid annotations and doodles in the margins.

"This is a lot more detailed than our assigned book," Bill remarked as he pawed through it, seemingly unbothered by her notes. "And you understood this all?"

"After reading the assigned book, yes. But it's all theory right now, I haven't had the chance to actually apply it. Who knows, I could be terrible at transfiguration," she snorted.

"Transfiguration is mostly about knowing the science behind it and understanding its intricacies. If you comprehend our assigned book and are speculating into these theories... Well, I expect it's going to be hard to beat you in marks in that subject," Bill closed the book and offered it to her.

Beth's cheeks became slightly pink at his words and she placed the book on her lap and glanced out the window. The train was just beginning to move, leaving behind London and her life as a Muggle. "I don't know about that," she sighed humbly, though the idea of being the best in a difficult subject made her smile in spite of herself.

They resigned to a bit of silence, which neither seemed to mind, staring out the window as London passed by and they began moving through the verdant english countryside. Northern Scotland was a far way off and after a bit of time passed, Bill stirred the conversation again. "What house are you hoping to get into?" he asked her.

Having read Hogwarts, A History Beth knew enough about Hogwarts to not seem like a befuddled and clueless Muggle-born as she was. "I don't know... I thought about it hard, I really did, but I think I could be in any of the houses aside from Slytherin," she told him earnestly. "What about you?"

"I expect I'll be in Gryffindor like all of my family," Bill said with a wry smile, as if there could be no other house that might accept him.

"Do you think you belong in Gryffindor?"

"I think so, but Weasleys have always been in Gryffindor, so I don't expect much otherwise."

"Do you know how you get sorted into your house?" that was the one subject that she could not find in the book.

"Not a clue, but I don't think it'll be too complicated-" there was a soft rap on the door and a pair of students were standing in green and silver dashed robes. Bill exchanged glances with Beth before getting up to slide the door open. "Yes?"

"We're collecting signatures for a new club this year. We figured we would start early on the train," one of the older students began to implore, holding a roll of parchment in his hands.

"What kind of club?" Beth piped up, wondering if this would be another way to make more new friends.

"The Blood Club, any witches or wizards who hail from a family with rich wizarding history can join," the girl beside him piped up.

"Oh," Beth settled back in her seat, albeit disappointed that she would have nothing to contribute to this club. The moment she admitted this would not apply to her, the gazes of the Slytherins sharpened and became almost haughty.

"Not interested," Bill said coldly before slamming the door shut in their faces.

They departed without another word and Bill flopped back down in his seat with a cross expression. "Why didn't you sign up? Your family has all witches and wizards, right?"

"A club like that isn't worth joining," Bill told her. "Did you see how they looked at you after realizing that you weren't pureblood?"

"Pureblood?" she echoed cluelessly. "Does it matter?"

"To some people it does. Purists who think that those with Muggle parents shouldn't be allowed to go to Hogwarts or any other school of magic. And so soon after the war, you'd think they'd have some humility," Bill said shaking his head in disbelief.

"I'm sorry, but what war?" she felt hopelessly lost in the context of the cultural references.

"The Wizarding War ended just last year... With the Boy Who Lived-" Bill launched into the explanation of the ride of the Dark Lord, He Who Must Not Be Named. Blood purists were among his followers, believing that witches and wizards should control the world and Muggles. As he explained, Beth was horrified that this had been happening while she was growing up and she had no idea. With her questions and inquiries it took a considerable amount of time for Bill to get through the entire story.

By the time he had finished they realized they needed to change into their robes and that they were getting rather close to Hogwarts as night had fallen outside the window of their cabin.

"I heard the wandmaker, Gregorovitch, refer to me as a Mudblood when I left his shop. I hadn't thought it was quite as rude as you've now told me," Beth sighed, now understanding the dirty looks that had been tossed their way by some of the passerbyers in Diagon Alley.

"Yes, it's a foul name for Muggle-Born witches or wizards," Bill scowled, straightening his collar.

"Well, I do hope we're sorted into the same house. I've had fun talking with you so far," Beth told Bill with a big, if not goofy, smile.

"Even if we're not in the same house it doesn't matter. We'll still have some classes together," Bill returned the smile. "Wow, are we here already? I really lost track of time."

Beth and Bill collected their belongings and became one of the many students hurrying into the hallway of the train to offload. Confusion mounted almost immediately as students began moving in every which direction. Both of them had nearly become lost until in the distance, they could hear, "First years! First years, this way please. Stacks your belongings off to the side here," a deep voice requested, a lantern held so impossibly high that Beth thought it was floating in the air.

The pair meandered over, huddling with the throng of other first years, and halted in front of a gargantuan man. He was incredibly tall and was a wide as three men. A coarse and wiry beard tumbled wildly down his chest, and his small beetle like eyes glinted from beneath heavy brows. The lantern illuminated his moleskin coat and he glanced around, waiting for the last of the stragglers to join them.

"Alright then, leave everything here and we're going to head down to the docks... Yes, that means your bags too," the enormous man instructed, Beth turning to drop her backpack next to Gibbles' cage.

Following the light of the man's lantern, they went down the hill and past a crest of trees. The boat house sprawled in front of them, lined with dozens of small boats that had no paddles. In the distance, Beth could see the silhouette of Hogwarts high upon a cliff, illuminated against the night sky.

"Two to a boat then."

Bill and Beth managed to board a boat together, which began moving the moment they had settled in. Gliding serenely along the mirror like surface of the lake, the castle grew more lovely as it drew nearer. The many spires and towers of the castle became more refined and neither spoke, drinking in the glory of the school, the thousands of stars dotting the surface behind it as perfect as a twinkling picture.

As soon as the ride had started it seemed to end. They had entered beneath the cliff face and Hogwarts was no longer visible. The students huddled in a crowd, waiting for the large man to join them. Finally, he appeared with the last of the boats and they were able to follow him up through the basin and onto staircases that seemingly led into the school. Recognizing tidbits from the book she had read, here and there, Beth found her head constantly on a swivel as she gasped in mild delight.

Before she knew it, they were standing outside a great set of oaken doors, wondering what lay waiting on the other side. The man pardoned himself and shuffled in through the door, a resonating and sharp click behind him. Chatter immediately broke out between all of the students waiting eagerly to find out how they would be sorted into their respective houses.

"I think we're going to have to fight a troll-"

"Or maybe know theories from the books we were assigned for the year," another girl murmured, sounding a bit worried by this prospect.

But no answer was given as the door opened for a second time and Professor McGonagall stepped out. Beth felt a smile light up her own face as she beamed up at McGonagall, wanting to talk to her about all the extra reading she had delighted in over the remaining bit of summer. However, the witch's face was rather drawn and pensive, her eyes raking across the students who hushed immediately.

"No speaking," McGonagall quieted the last girl who still had the gall to whisper while the professor stood there in her velvet emerald robes. "Now, when you enter the hall you will be sorted into your houses. I want no talking and you to move in an orderly fashion. Make certain to listen keenly for your name as you will be called in alphabetical order," she declared thinly, her eyes slipping to the girl that had been impertinent enough to begin whispering again. "Do I make myself clear?" Each word was punctuated with great clarity and that shut the girl right up.

Satisfied that none of the students would dare to step out of line again, she turned on her heel and opened the door wide for the young children to get their first glimpse of the Great Hall. Delighted gasps escaped their mouths, including Beth who had craned her neck to gaze up not at the ceiling, but the starry sky which winked down at them. The moon was a shining silver saucer in the sky, hidden behind a few meandering clouds. Hundreds of waxen candles hung above them as if suspended by fishing wire to a ceiling that was missing. Their lights flickered against the night and brightened the four long tables beneath.

Glittering golden plates sat in front of the older students, goblets flanking their left. At the very end of the hall a long table on a raised dais where the professors sat, their pale faces illuminated against the candle light. Hundreds of faces were watching them approach, a single stood and a beaten up old hat sat before them, the leather covered in several patches.

Confusion seemed to consume them. Why would there only be a hat? How would the hat know which house they belonged in? How would it notify Professor McGonagall? But their silent questions were answered when the sagging hat sprung up and a long seam like rip opened like a mouth and the hat began to bellow a song.

"Another year, another Sorting,

Let us rejoice for these years to come,

And while I not be among the most sporting,

I assure you, I know just right where you belong

So take a seat and we shall see,

Which among these you'll be Sorted,

Will it be with Gryffindor?

Gallant, chivalrous, and brave,

For these who'll stand through thick and thin,

No matter how perilous or grave,

Or perhaps it'll be clever Ravenclaw,

For which the most intelligent dwell,

With brains as quick as whips,

For any problem they'll know a spell,

To fix any issue that may ellipse,

Maybe it'll be Hufflepuff,

The stout of heart and no loyaler a friend,

But do not be mistaken for their kindness,

For they have wills that will never bend,

And finally we have Slytherin,

The cunning and ambitious,

Perhaps you see where opportunities lie,

And to obtain it will even be surreptitious,

Which will it be among these four,

That you shall be sorted into?

Take a seat and we shall see,

Just where you should be."

The hall broke out into cheers and applause and the hat took several bows, tipping his top toward the students who were calling their approval for his song. It took a few moments for the Great Hall to quiet back down and by then, McGonagall had taken her post alongside of the hat with a roll of parchment. She seized the Sorting Hat by the tip and stated, "Now, when I call your name, please take a seat," her eyes slid down the parchment and, "Addler, Leslie."

A confident girl strode up the dais and sat upon the stool, leveling her gaze across the crowd as the Sorting Hat was lowered upon her head. The Hat contemplated for a few moments and then declared, "Gryffindor!"

The table with students dashed with crimson and gold began clapping and cheering, Leslie hopping down to join them. McGonagall began rattling off the list, the beginning quarter of the alphabet passing before Beth heard, "Hiddleston, Bethany."

With a nervous, but excited smile in Bill's direction, she trotted up to the stool and sat down. Heat pooled in her cheeks as she felt the eyes of the school on her. When the Hat was lowered upon her head she had a bit of a start when she heard him speaking in her head.

"Ah, bright mind, ah yes. You could really go anywhere. But it's your disposition... Slytherin is a poor fit, but Gryffindor or even Ravenclaw too..." the Hat mulled and became silent, meandering through her thoughts. It became eerily quiet in the hall and yet the Hat had not said anything. What would happen if the Hat didn't Sort her? Would she have to leave the school? "I think I've got it. Hufflepuff!"

Glad to finally be Sorted, Hufflepuff erupted in applause and friendly smiles. Even if she had been hoping to get into Gryffindor, at least those waiting for her looked very kind and welcoming.

"Welcome to Hufflepuff, Bethany," an older Hufflepuff told her quietly, as not to be heard as more students were being Sorted. He had a shiny yellow and silver badge on his chest with a 'P' marked in it. He was one of the Prefects. "My name is Mitchell Spindlewheel. Feel free to find me if you ever need help with anything."

"Thanks," Beth said, relaxing into her seat more as her eyes turned back toward the dais. Her mind flitted over to what Bill had said and she couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. All of his family had been in Gryffindor, so it was unlikely that he would join her in Hufflepuff. And from the looks of it, their tables were on opposite sides of the Great Hall.

"Well, don't look too disappointed," another girl piped, but her words were kind.

"I'm sorry... I was just hoping to be in the same house as my friend and he's going to be in Gryffindor," Beth told her, unaware that she had appeared so downtrodden by the outcome of where she had been Sorted.

"Oh you'll still have some classes with him and then after classes you can always study and catch up in other places," she insisted, waving off the doubts that Beth had.

"Weasley, William."

Bethany lifted her head and looked to see that Bill was the last student to be Sorted. Was it daunting to be the last standing? He took his seat and unlike Beth, the Hat touched upon his head and with a cry, "Gryffindor!"

Now that the last first year had been Sorted, McGonagall retrieved the Hat and stool before an older wizard stood up. He had long white hair and a beard that matched in length. His blue eyes twinkled beneath his half-moon spectacles and a small smile touched his lips as he uttered, "Blubber! Nitwit! Oddment! Tweak!"

Food blossomed like flowers on the trenchers in front of them, cries of delight resounding throughout the hall. The aroma was heavenly, wafting into Beth's nostrils as she eyed the nearest delicacy, which was roasted pheasant. But that wasn't all that was spread out in front of them. No, there was an entire roasted pig with an apple in its mouth, herb encrusted chickens, roast beef that had been pre-sliced, and rabbit stew. Mashed potatoes with garlic, crispy Yorkshire puddings, peas and carrots, honey coated buns, and yams were just a few of the dozens of sides.

Beth had reached over for some cranberry saw when a silvery spectre emerged headfirst and her serving spoon dropped with a loud clatter.

"Oooh! Dear me, sorry there!" more of the ghost had emerged, a fat and little man with a friar's bowl haircut and bald pate. "Didn't mean to scare you, but all means get yourself some cranberries. I remember how good they were, always loved how tart," he smacked his lips together at the thought.

"Who are you?" a boy across from Beth asked.

The ghost spun around. "I'm the Friar! Was once in Hufflepuff like you."

"Friar? So you were with the church? The Catholic church?" Beth asked, causing him to whirl around again.

"Yes, I was! Well, at least until I helped too many people and they executed me... but never an ill feeling, I suppose it was rather suspicious that I could heal people with a poke of a stick," he chortled to himself despite mildly conversing about his death as if it were appropriate dinner talk. "You will be seeing quite a bit of me."

"You're our house ghost if I'm not mistaken," the boy said again.

"You are not mistaken," the Friar chimed before spinning around in a circle again, as if waiting for Beth to now follow up with a question of her own. When she did not, he smiled broadly his jowls quivering. "I do miss good food," his jovial mod was broken slightly by the magnificent feast in front of him. "Anyways... Ah! Eddison-" he floated down the length of the table to another Hufflepuff student.

Beth's eyes remained on the boy across from her that had curiously questioned the Fat Friar. He had light brown hair that was neatly, if not meticulously, combed over to the side. His eyebrows were hewn to absolute perfection, not a hair out of place, and his eyes were a lovely, glittering icy blue, framed with dramatically long and dark lashes. She hadn't been paying enough attention to recall what his name was.

"Hi, I'm Beth," she said.

"Ford Gosling," he returned, his voice smooth and albeit high, a drawing and emphatic manner to it. "My goodness, isn't this hall just gorgeous? I absolutely adore the night sky. I can't wait for Astronomy."

Beth shared in his revelry and stared up at the sky, drawing in the blinking stars and the shifting clouds that would obscure the moon from time to time. "It really is. I wonder how the enchantments are wrought. I expect it's some kind of transfiguration to make the ceiling translucent," she observed dreamily.

Ford turned his eyes down, staring at her as if she had three heads. "I tell you it's beautiful and your first thought is to analyze it and try to figure out how it's done?" he deadpanned.

"Uh… I suppose so," Beth said with a nervous chuckle, the disbelief clear on Ford's face and it made her uncomfortable.

But Ford's face was a constantly changing mask. "Merlin's pants I need to stick around you then," he laughed, a grin spreading over his face. His laugh was rather girlish too and as he bent back slightly, diamond studded earrings winked in the candlelight. "Girl, I was so nervous being Sorted into this house," he had dropped his voice as if to keep this secret from the other students.

"Why?" but she also had similar feelings.

"Well, it doesn't really have the greatest reputation. I mean, with Gryffindor being strong and brave and Ravenclaw being smart and all… Where does that leave us? Hufflepuff will never turn anyone down, which means the outcasts and losers can accumulate here too. I know I've got the whole friendly vibe going on with me, but I didn't really think I'd be Sorted here… maybe I'm too dumb to be in Ravenclaw," Ford unleashed his thoughts on her in a rush.

"Hufflepuff has produced the least amount of Dark Wizards," Beth recited, taking that quote straight from out of Hogwarts, A History.

Ford arched a brow at her and then glanced down the length of the table where a 2nd year student had gotten a bean stuck in his nose and couldn't get it out. "Do you really need further explanation why?"

"It's only night one," Beth reminded him cheerfully. "I think you're just nervous and it'll take time to settle in."

Ford sat back and crossed his arms. "I hope so. I mean my dad won't be too disappointed seeing that he was a Hufflepuff, but I was really hoping…"

Before Ford and Bethany could continue their conversation, a hush had fallen over the Great Hall as the wizard in the most ornate chair stood up, his piercing eyes twinkling like the stars above him as he addressed the students. "Good evening, welcome to Hogwarts. Now that you are all well fed and watered, I'd like to put in a few words this evening.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. Now," his eyes turned among the tables and a soft smile spread across his face. "And now, before we go to bed, let's sing the school song!"

The other teachers did not seem as delighted as the Headmaster. He raised his wand as if to conduct the school before declaring, "Everyone pick your favorite tune and off we go!"

The school then broke out:

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

Teach us something please,

Whether we be old and bald

Or young with scabby knees,

Our heads could do with filling

With some interesting stuff,

For now they're bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff,

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we've forgot,

just do your best, we'll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot."

Some tunes were absolutely horrendous, but it seemed the sole purpose of some Gryffindors to be as out as possible. Voices overlapped, but the words were mostly discernible as Dumbledore conducted and the hundreds of voices echoed throughout the hall. Even the Fat Friar joined in the chorus, his voice bellowing out in a resonating tenor.

Beth and Ford exchanged wild grins, amused by the spirit of the school, as the last few voices hung on the word 'rot' for as long as they could manage. Among the clapping, Dumbledore's was the loudest as he looked upon his students with absolute eagerness.

"Ah music, certainly a magic further than anything we do here," he remarked, drawing his wand back and glancing between the grinning students. "And now it is bedtime. Off you all go!"

The tables began moving at once and Mitchell called after them all. "First years, follow me please!" he was trying to corral all the small students despite the chaos of the rest of the school leaving.

Beth noticed that the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws were headed up the stairs and the Slytherins down the corridor. Rather than going up, the Hufflepuffs began going down. Above them, the dozens of stairs were constantly moving, switching back and forth which side they preferred to lead to. While staring up, she spotted Bill waving down at her. She quickly flailed her hand, realizing how stupid she might have looked moments after as she descended the stairs with the rest of the Hufflepuff first years. A shock of disappointment pierced her heart again, wishing so desperately that she was climbing up beside Bill, but she steeled herself and turned her head back down to look at Ford.

"Was that your friend?" Ford asked her inquisitively.

"Yeah, his name is Bill. I was hoping to be in the same house as him," she confided.

"We'll see plenty of him. Maybe you can introduce him to me," Ford prompted as they headed down one flight of stairs and headed toward where Beth knew the kitchen was situated.

"Now, as some of you might be aware, the Hufflepuff Basement is adjacent to the kitchen. So if you see any house-elves, don't be afraid to ask for food. They're always willing to give us treats," Mitchell was telling the throng of 11 year olds. "Only thing is, our entrance is a bit hidden."

He was leading them through a labyrinth of barrels. Seeing how they had to weave between them, no one would typically bother with this unless they knew a door lay on the other side. Finally, through the maze they popped out right beside a circular wooden door that was set into the stone wall of the corridor. Plants grew around the rounded frame and it had been impossible to see it from afar.

"Now to enter, you'll have to tap this here barrel," he turned around and gestured to the second barrel from the bottom of where they had popped out. "With your wand, to the rhythm of 'Helga Hufflepuff'. Easy enough?" Mitchell drew his wand and to the ring of her name, the door swung open to reveal the common room. "We don't have a password like other houses, so it's a lot easier to remember how to get in."

Even though it was nighttime, the common room was the warmest place that Beth had ever been in. The ceiling was low due to being in the basement, but there were small circular windows dotted the upper part of the walls, peeking out through the small bit of space they had above ground. Yellow hangings decorated the walls, a fire roared in the hearth, casting light on the overstuffed couches and armchairs that were upholstered in yellow and black. Above the fireplace was a honey colored mantle where a portrait of Helga Hufflepuff hung, badgers were engraved into the wood.

Various plants were assorted throughout the room, on shelves, tables, and hanging from the ceiling.

"Professor Sprout, our Head of House, brings in plants for us to take care of all the time. It really adds a bit of character to the common room," Mitchell was telling another student who had inquired about cactus-like plant in a pot that suddenly burst into song and started dancing in front of them.

"Well, I think I'm going to tuck in for the night. Want to meet me in the morning?" Ford asked Beth after they stood there watching the cactus dance for a little bit.

"Me too and yeah, we'll go for breakfast, right?"

"First years, your schedules will be given to you at breakfast, make sure to get there on time," Mitchell called as he noticed that students were beginning to go through circular awnings to where the dorms were located.

"See you tomorrow Beth," Ford yawned, giving her a slight wave before he trailed after some of the other boys.

Beth continued to look around the common room for a little bit, her exhaustion pushed off so that she could scrutinize the plants and smile at them. Everything in this earthy common room made her feel as if she were swaddled in hugs and comfort. The doubts she had about Hufflepuff were beginning to siphon away and when she decided to go to the dorms, she didn't feel as uneasy as before.

The halls leading to the dorm rooms were like little tunnels. Each door was marked with four names and it did not seem as if the rooms were clustered by year, so a room of 1st years might be next to that of 7th years. Beth continued through the tunnel until she found the door labeled with her own name and three others; Mildred Fletching, Tierra Leveret, and Cayenne Blackjack.

She was the last to arrive among her roommates, who were sitting on their beds chatting. Four four-poster beds were arranged in the circular room with patchwork quilts laid over them. Warm copper lamps illuminated the room, highlighting the other warm honey tones and natural wood.

"Hello," Beth greeted in a somewhat squeaky voice, not having to deal with a throng of girls just yet. Her nerves stemmed from Marcella and the posse that had followed her around.

But her moment of fear evaporated like dew in the desert when she was met with smiles. "Bethany Hiddleston, right?" a girl with tight dark ringlets and ebony skin asked. When Beth nodded she said, "My name is Tierra Leveret. We were just talking about what classes we're looking forward to."

"Oh! That sounds like fun," Beth said, taking a seat on the last empty bed. Strangely, her trunk was already at the foot of it.

"I'm Cayenne and this is Mildred," a girl with strawberry blonde hair introduced, jerking her thumb in the direction of a chubby girl. Cayenne's hair was silky and long, her face splattered with freckles and her eyes a foamy green.

Mildred was pudgy, but not morbidly so. Her face was round and her lips thick, her chestnut hair cropped to her shoulders and too short bands dusting far above her brows. Mildred fussed over them, keenly aware that they had been cut too short.

"Hello, you can call me Beth," she said with a honey sweet smile. "Don't let me interrupt your conversation. You were talking about which classes you were most looking forward to?"

"Yes!" Tierra grinned, clapping her hands together in delight. "I was saying how excited I was for Charms. I mean, it's the most pinnacle course we'll take. Charms take up the majority of spells we'll learn."

Cayenne shrugged her shoulders, but not in a rude way. "I mean, yes, but there's more to magic than just Charms. I'm looking forward to Herbology. Did you see that beautiful Mimbulus mimbletonia out there?"

"Was that the dancing cactus?" Beth asked, not as well read in her Herbology as she was in other subjects.

"Close! It is a cactus, but it doesn't dance," Cayenne said.

"I'm more excited for History of Magic," Mildred said in a small, trembling voice, as if she were afraid that she would be too loud.

"History of Magic seems like it's going to be interesting," Beth agreed, but they seemed to be the only two who thought so.

"I don't know, I heard the professor was really boring," Tierra informed them. "What are you most excited for Beth?"

"Definitely Transfiguration," she smiled.

"Really? Professor McGonagall doesn't intimidate you?" Mildred squeaked.

"No… Why would she? She amazes me actually! She's an Animagus, did you know that? I want to become an Animagus one day. I hope she'll teach me how," Beth sighed dreamily, wondering what animal she would take the shape of. "I mean, Defence Against the Dark Arts is a close runner up, but I absolutely love Transfiguration theory."

"Good, because I think I'll be needing some help in it. I heard that Transfiguration and Potions are the two hardest subjects," Cayenne shook her head, amused by Beth's declaration, but also taken aback. "My mom had McGonagall in school too. She warned me that she's a very tough teacher."

The girls chatted for a while longer before they realized that they had better get to sleep. The bronze lamps were turned off and they were plunged into darkness, no light filtering in from the small circular windows in their room. With a gentle sigh, Beth rested her head against her pillow and felt the remaining nerves slip away from her as she tumbled into a dream.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

* * *

Nighttime in the Hufflepuff Basement was nothing when compared to day. Morning light filtered in through the small windows, the shafts of light falling across Beth's face. She stirred and glanced around, the first to have woken among her roommates. Yawning, she rolled out of her bed and fixed the patchwork quilt before putting on some slippers and heading to the girls' bathroom to take a shower and wash up. A few older girls were also already getting ready, but not in the same respect as Beth. No, they were fussing over their hair and makeup, insisting that they had to look their best on the first day of school.

Beth didn't quite understand their fixation with their appearances and simply brushed her honey blonde hair out and slipped her black headband in, pushing her long wavy locks out of her face. She stared in the mirror, not displeased with the girl who smiled back. Beth had pale freckles from being out in the yard all summer (at least until she found out she was a witch) and brows slightly darker than her hair. Her face was heart shaped and cheeks constantly rosy. Her nose was small and slightly upturned over ruby lips and a pointed chin. She almost always kept her long hair back with her headband or put it in a long plait.

After brushing her teeth she returned to her room to see that the other girls had all woken up and were putting their robes on. Beth slipped into her own, noticing that the black ties they had all bought had changed colors. Now, they were yellow and black with the crest of Hufflepuff on the widest part. Even their robes were slashed with yellow and had the Hufflepuff sigil upon it. Sweaters and scarves had been laid out for colder weather, all in yellow and black.

"Is anyone ready for breakfast now? I'm meeting someone," Beth said, picking up her leather backpack and making certain she had parchment and ink in it.

"I'll go with you," Cayenne said, haphazardously shoving materials into her bag before she flounced out the door with Beth. "Who're we meeting?"

"Ford Gosling. He's uhm…" he was certainly unlike any other boy she'd met before. "Different."

Upon popping out of the tunnels that led to various female dorms, they found Ford standing in the common room, glancing around at the way the room lit up with natural light filtering through all the windows. His hair was perfectly groomed again and Beth had to tap him on his shoulder to stir him from his musing.

"Oh! Beth, Merlin's beard don't sneak up on me like that," he sighed, chest heaving as he placed his hand to his heart dramatically.

"Sorry, you were just so focused on the room," Beth grinned apologetically.

"Of course I was, look how lovely it is. Was a bit difficult to tell last night when it was dark, but I _love _it," Ford declared before turning to look at Cayenne. "Hi, I'm Ford," he stuck out his hand in a friendly manner.

"Cayenne," she returned brightly, shaking his hand.

"Well, let's get going then. Maybe we'll overhear some juicy gossip in the Great Hall. I already heard some weird stuff this morning," Ford waved, leading the way out of the Hufflepuff Basement.

"What did you hear?" Beth asked him curiously.

"Randall Inkwood wants to ask Killie Bullwark out, but he's afraid of being rejected. Apparently Killie is a really pretty girl from Slytherin, but I mean… She's a _Slytherin_. I don't expect him asking her out will really go well at all," Ford confided, shaking his head as if he pitied the older student.

"Why not? If Randall is good looking enough-" Cayenne began insisting.

"Trust me honey, he's not," Ford snorted as they began climbing the stairs to the main level of the castle. This was perhaps the greatest perk of being so close to the ground floor, the Main Hall was just around the corner. "Beth I swear if we have Transfiguration first, I might just die."

"Why? I hope we have it first!" Beth replied.

"My brain doesn't work right until at least 10 am. I hope it's something boring like History of Magic," Ford confided before they entered the Great Hall.

It wasn't as wonderfully decorated as it had been upon their arrival. The ceiling was normal and the hall was illuminated mostly by the natural light that filtered in through the large cathedral windows. The tables were filled with breakfast foods and drinks. Heading to the far right, the trio of Hufflepuffs sat at their assigned table and began choosing the food for their meal.

Beth selected a cup of tea with cream and three sugar cubes. Scrambled eggs and beans were light enough for her butterfly filled tummy. However, she resorted to mainly sipping her tea, craning her head when an owl flew overhead and dropped a rolled paper in front of Ford.

The boy unfurled it, revealing a copy of the Daily Prophet. On the front page was a rather haggard looking man with long twisted hair and a beard, holding a sign with numbers on it. Ford spit his coffee back into its cup and blanched at the site of the header, 'Igor Karkaroff Released From Azkaban'.

Beth had learned enough from Bill on the train ride to know that Azkaban was the wizard prison where the word of You Know Who's followers now presided. "Why did they acquit him?" she asked, trying to read the paper with Ford.

"_After naming various Death Eaters that had been instrumental in the rise of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Karkaroff gave that of Augustus Rockwood. He had given many names, those of which were already captured or dead. However, Augustus was not suspected at the time that his name was given by Karkaroff and thus, in exchange for the number of Death Eaters that he helped put away, Karkaroff was released from Azkaban- _Bloody hell! Why don't they just release them all then? He certainly was one of them. So just because he tattled on the others that means it's safe to let him go?" Ford was livid, glaring at the front of the paper before he picked up his coffee and began to drink it angrily.

"But letting him go caught a lot more of them," Cayenne counter argued lightly.

"Doesn't matter. I don't know why there isn't capital punishment for terrible people such as themselves," Ford mumbled, flipping through his paper to try and escape the moving picture of Karkaroff.

Beth wanted to ask more, about his extreme animosity toward the Death Eater, but didn't get the chance. Instead a female Prefect by the name of Electra Crooks was coming by with schedules. Seeing that all of the first years had generic schedules by house, it wasn't difficult to hand out a piece of parchment to each of them that dictated that they would have Herbology first. Cayenne was absolutely delighted by this.

"Oh, I'm so excited," she gushed, reaching into her bag and pulling out the compendium of magical herbs and plants. "I wonder what we'll learn about this year. I bet nothing too exciting, but still…"

"I bet it'll be fun," Beth assured her, but Ford was glancing doubtfully at the book she had opened in front of her.

"Beth-" a voice called, not belonging to either of the companions she was with.

Craning her neck around, Beth saw that Bill Weasley was headed her way with a couple of new friends of his own. "What does your schedule look like?" he had his own in his hand, his uniform's crimson and gold accent complimenting his hair.

"Here," she stood up from her table to stand alongside of him to compare schedules. "Oh! We've got Defence, Transfiguration, and Charms together."

"And Flying too, I think all first years take it together," Bill pointed to their schedules where on Thursday afternoons they would be with Madam Hooch. "Looks like the best classes we'll have together. Unfortunately not Potions though… I've heard that the new professor is very tough. I was kind of hoping to have Slughorn."

Beth couldn't recall the professor, seeing that there had been so many crammed into one table. "Potions shouldn't be too hard though? It's just recipes," she remarked offhandedly.

"You say that, but it's one of the most complex magical studies," Bill mused with a smile.

"Hey Beth we have to head to Herbology," Cayenne interrupted, glancing from around her shoulder to look at Bill.

"Oh… oh yeah! Well, I'll see you at the end of the day, Bill," Beth shoved her schedule in her pocket, not caring to make certain it was neatly folded.

"I'll see you in Charms," he said heading out of the hall with his companions.

"He seemed nice," Cayenne chirped.

"Yeah, he's really cool. We rode the train together in the same compartment," Beth told her, Ford trotting alongside her as they began heading for the classroom where Herbology was to be held.

From all appearances, they wouldn't be going into the greenhouses for a while and were resigned to sit in a typical classroom arrange with wooden desks large enough to sit two at a time. The rest of the first year Hufflepuffs joined them, including Tierra and Mildred. There were a few boys as well, but all in all, only a small portion of the beginning students had been sorted into Hufflepuff. The rest of their class was filled with the handsomely green and silver slashed robes of Slytherin.

Professor Sprout entered the room, chatter continuing quietly as she straightened her patched hat and gave the classroom a warm and generous smile. Her eyes swept over her new Hufflepuffs, but there was a slight moment of hesitation on the Slytherins, as if she was doubtful about how well they would act in class.

"Good morning everyone and what a glorious and wonderful morning it is!" Professor Sprout chirped before drawing out the roster. "Danicia Adams? Celeste Arbrutus?" the roster went alphabetically, beginning with mostly Slytherins; Cayenne Blackjack (Hufflepuff), Marcus Bulstrode, Hawke Coddesy (Hufflepuff), Laurel Crane, Travis Cycad, Roan Fawley, Mildred Fletching (Hufflepuff), Rodney Firethron (Hufflepuff), Sophia Gorgon, Ford Gosling (Hufflepuff), Beth, Ackerly Horn (Hufflepuff), Tierra Levert (Hufflepuff), Lou Lyptus, Ella Rosier, Mina Selket, Leon Stems, Carol Talpin, and Connor Wolpers.

"Now if you'd please take your parchment as we're going to go over the best manure for magical plants, as come your second year, you will be handling much of what we learn this year," she turned around to the board and began writing down, the class shuffling around to get parchment and ink ready.

Beth drew her own parchment and uncorked a bottle of fine, navy blue ink, and dipped her golden eagle feather into it, silver nib flashing in the natural light of the classroom.

"Now dragon dung is particularly well suited for any magical plants It's high in protein and fiber-" her voice trailed off and was converted from words to paper. Beth didn't realize that there could be so much information about poop and how it worked well with plants, but she continued the scrawl the notes by ear, keeping her head down.

Perhaps once or twice she glanced up. Cayenne was staring dreamily at Professor Sprout, even if they were just talking about fertilizer. Her parchment was completely empty and Beth hoped that she was retaining all of this knowledge and not spacing out.

"Now, mooncalf dung also works, but I find that is works better on less aggressive species of plants. If we were to plant venomous tentacula which would you say is better?"

Beth didn't even know what a venomous tentacula was, but Cayenne's hand shot into the air like a rocket. Sprout smiled at her. "Cayenne?" the professor had already began memorizing their names.

"I would use the dragon dung fertilizer. Venomous tentacula is an exceptionally dangerous plant that prefers eating live food, which it uses its venomous tentacles to catch. Until it's large enough to catch game sufficient to support its diet, dragon dung would have more beneficial nutrients than a vegetarian like a mooncalf," she explained, a big smile on the girl's face as she explained this to their Head of House.

"Very good! I agree wholeheartedly with you. 10 points to Hufflepuff for that exceptional knowledge on venomous tentacula, which we will begin studying at a later day," Professor Sprout hummed cheerfully before returning to the board.

Beth heard a snort behind her, like pure disdain for the fact that Hufflepuff had won some house points already. She turned her head slightly, just to position her ear a bit better. Beneath the din of Professor Sprout's lessons, she could hear a pair of Slytherin girls murmuring among themselves.

"What a dweeb, I've never heard someone get so excited over poop," one girl was whispering.

"Right? Well, just goes to show you what a dirty person she is. I bet you she's used to it with dirty blood like hers. Did you hear, Blackjack? Her father works for the Ministry under mine. Daddy always talked about how Mr. Blackjack came from a good family but married a mudblood."

"_Really?_ I don't understand why some people can bear to be around them. You can smell their impurities from feet away… Speaking of purity, did you join the club?"

"Yeah, seems like it's going to be all Slytherins, but it's better that way. Most of the other purebloods in Hogwarts are blood traitors, just like that Weasley who got sorted into Gryffindor. I heard that he was sitting on the train with a mudblood-"

Beth felt her cheeks heat up and forced her head back down to the parchment. At least the Slytherins beseeching them had not known her name or these girls would also be directing nasty words in her direction. In a manner, they already were, but they were unaware that Beth could hear them.

Trying her hardest to ignore them, Beth focused on Professor Sprout, but always found herself listening back. Even if the subject of their fixation was Cayenne, she couldn't help but feel her innards twist and her bold begin to boil. Cayenne was a perfectly nice girl! She was smart too! They were just jealous of Cayenne and were saying bad things behind her back, hoping that she would hear. Instead, the girl was entirely fixated on the class and seemed not to hear a word.

When the bell rang and the professor hurried off to the greenhouses for her next subject, Beth began collecting her things.

"That class was amazing! I know we didn't get to do much, but it makes me so much more excited for what the future holds," Cayenne jibbered, having shoved everything back into her bag.

Ford trotted over to join them, running his fingers through his hair. "It's History of Magic next," he groaned, rolling his eyes dramatically. However, before he could get another word in, a pair of Slytherin girls brushed by Cayenne and hit her square on the shoulder with theirs. This sent her satchel sliding off her shoulder and sputtering to the ground where paper exploded in a frenzy.

"What where you're standing, other people have to get by too," one girl sneered, the voice belonging to one of the pair that had been insulting her during class. Professor Sprout had called her Danicia; she had thick curly black hair and sallow skin that was overcome in freckles, her nose pushed a little far and almost puggish.

The other girl's lip curled in the same manner, a menacing jeer as she snorted at Cayenne who had bent over and began collecting her things. "Sorry, I'll be more conscious next time," she apologized, unaware that they'd purposely bowled into her.

Ford's lips twisted down and his face contorted in fury, having witnessed the whole thing. "I thin-"

Beth grabbed his arm, her other hand into her pocket, fingers shaking slightly. "You'd best get to your next class. You don't want to be late on the first day," she said, managing the friendliest and kindest voice.

Ford whipped furious eyes on her, but did not say another word, instead he bent down to help Cayenne.

"Whatever," the other girl snorted, tossing her chestnut curls. She was considerably better looking than Danicia. Laurel, wasn't it?

Upon turning away and beginning for the door, Beth withdrew her wand from her robes and with a quiet, "_Locomotor Mortis_," fired the curse at the both of them. At once their legs pinioned together and they were unable to take another step. Instead, of them toppled forward and fell in a heap as they scrambled for desks to grab onto and pull themselves up with. However, the shock of being attacked with their backs turned kept them writhing, trying to pull themselves up.

Gathering Cayenne, who was uncertain of what had happened, they started for the exit. The eyes of the Slytherin girls followed them, full of venom and bright with malice. "You know girls, if you sit on the ground for much longer, you're going to be late to class," Ford told them in his flamboyant and cheeky voice.

"Bugger off you dirty bloods!" Danicia snarled.

"Wow, if you had asked nicely I might have unlocked your legs. But… I think you'll make it to class on time," Ford shrugged before joining his two friends.

Once outside the classroom door, Beth shut the door, knowing that this would create another process for them to go through to get some help. Did she feel bad? No, they had gotten less than what they deserved for being mean for no reason. In fact, Beth felt rather justified in using the minor curse to delay the Slytherins.

Ford turned to Beth, his eyes bright with… admiration? "That was way better than what I was thinking. They're going to be stuck in there all day… or until there's another class in there."

"_You _did that?" Cayenne gasped in horror.

"They were saying nasty things about you all class Cayenne after you won us house points. They pushed me over the edge when they pretended to accidentally knock into you. No one is going to torment my friends and get away with it," Beth sniffed indignantly, though her ears burned at the sound of Cayenne's disapproving tone.

"I… What?"

Ford sighed and rolled his eyes as if this were so painstakingly obvious. "They bumped into you on purpose. To make you drop everything because they don't like you. All over winning house points for Hufflepuff because you know a lot about Herbology," he explained.

"I couldn't let them get away with it... " Beth murmured, thinking back to Marcella and her posse of girls. Ignoring them had never worked and now that Beth knew basic defense she wasn't going to let anyone bully her or her friends.

"Well… I appreciate it, but don't make a habit of cursing anyone who crosses you. We could get into a lot of trouble," Cayenne said.

Ford snorted, but rolled his shoulders in a lazy shrug as if he'd attempt to quell his temper. He had been about to reach for his own wand when Beth had stopped him.

"We can all simmer down in History of Magic," Beth suggested as they made their way through the castle.

Fortunately, their next subject was with Ravenclaw and they were a much milder group. Instead, they kept their heads down and noses in their notes as Professor Binns began the class. He wasn't a living human, unlike the rest of their teachers, and was instead a silvery ghost, unaware that he had passed on and just resumed teacher after his death with no thought toward the fact that he didn't manifest physically.

A couple Hufflepuff boys were very interested by this, their voices the only breaking through the deadpan of Binns. The ghost professor didn't notice their talking at all, completely fixated on beginning their knowledge of the Gargoyle Strike of 1911.

They were all thankful for it to finally end and their midday was broken by lunch. The trio trotted back to the Great Hall to settle their growling stomachs with some sandwiches. Given Bill's warning about Potions, Beth took her book out of her backpack and began flipping through it. By now she'd already made a bunch of annotations in her book, making it look as if it were second hand rather than freshly bought a few weeks ago.

"What do you think we're going to do in Potions today?" Ford asked, noticing that Beth had pulled the book out.

"I don't know, but Bill made it seems as if this professor is very tough and we should be prepared for a difficult subject," she told him, glancing up from the recipe for Cure for Boils, which was the first and most basic potion she noticed.

"Hm, yeah I've heard about Professor Snape too. I heard he was a Death Eater, but Dumbledore cleared him with the Ministry," Ford said grudgingly.

"How did he clear him?" Cayenne's brows shot up, leaning toward Ford for more information.

"Dunno, but having Dumbledore on your side has to have a lot of pull I suppose," Ford pursed his lips and shook his head. "I'm not looking forward to this class either."

"You haven't been eager for one class yet," Beth pointed out.

"Hey! It's because we don't have Defence today. I think I'd like that," Ford retorted, washing down his sandwich with some pumpkin juice.

They spent another 20 minutes eating and worrying about Potions class before they got up and started toward the dungeons to go find it.

"Hey Gosling-" another Hufflepuff first year jogged to catch up with them, adjusting the sling of his satchel that had began to slip as it was overfilled with books. "I heard that someone attacked those Slytherin girls in the back of Herbology this morning."

Beth pursed her lips and glanced down the musty hallway. The dungeon was rather cool and dank compared to the rest of the school, especially the level where Hufflepuff Basement was located, which was always cozy and warm.

"Where'd you hear that?" Ford asked him dubiously, eyeing the other boy carefully to gauge his reaction.

"I guess Ackerly heard them at lunch telling some of the older Slytherins. You should have seen the look on the older students' faces. They went and told the girls that they were embarrassments for being beaten by a Hufflepuff. You were there late, did you happen to see anything?"

Ford glanced at Beth, silently asking her for permission to say what had happened. "I expect they got what they deserved. People just don't go hurling curses for no good reason."

"Either way, I think Snape has heard that one of his Slytherins were cursed by a Hufflepuff and we're gonna get an earful in class. From what my brother has told me, we'd do best to do as we're told and not to draw attention to ourselves."

"Who do we have Potions with?" Cayenne asked, having been listening the whole time as well.

"I think Ravenclaw…"

"Dear Merlin, not draw attention to ourselves? When you've got the mute Ravenclaws in the room anything we do is going to seem annoying," Ford complained with an aggravated sigh. "Blimey Hawke, I really hope that this class isn't as bad as everyone is saying it's going to be."

But the predictions that everyone had made were quite true. The little quad of Hufflepuffs were shut up immediately upon entering the classroom, a dark professor scowling at the front of the dungeon room. The walls held many shelving units, each adorned with glass jars carefully labeled in a long and elegant script; frog eyes, lizard tongues, hen gallstones.

"Divide yourselves," Professor Snape hissed, motioning to the Ravenclaws that had also been instructed to sit individually.

Beth gave her friends a wry smile and then sat next to a Ravenclaw boy with messy roan hair. Her eyes settled back on the professor as she took out her parchment and book.

Snape was long and lanky, though most of these features were hidden beneath the folds of his entirely black robes. His hands were drawn inward and as he looked around, she thought he had a rather beaklike nose. His eyes twinkled, but not in the same jovial manner as Dumbledore, no they were malicious, searching for any misstep or hiccup between the students. He was especially attentive toward the Hufflepuffs, no doubt having caught wind that one of the 8 sitting in front of him had cursed two of his students.

The bell rang and fortunately all the students were in their seats, ready for class to begin. Snape cleared his throat, this being the first class of students he'd see through 7 full years, and began a long monologue about the details of the class.

"There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class. As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making. However, for those select few…" he glanced around the class, his sallow skin winking in the light as he tried to discern which students would actually prove promising.

"Who possess, the predisposition… I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death," each word was clearly dictated with a clear and ringing voice, even if his tone was contemptuous and vile. Perhaps his mannerisms were what drew Beth in, even if the other students shrunk away from the intimidating and new Potions professor.

"Open your books to page 22, there you will find our first subject of study, a Cure for Boils. This will be our first test and it will allow me to gauge how well or terribly I expect you'll do over the years. It's a very simple draft and next week we will begin brewing it. Let us go over the ingredients and what else they might be used for-"

Snape broke off and they delved into the properties of the Cure for Boils potion.

From the sound of it, a lot of spells could be used to inflict such boils, pustules, and other pimply punishments. Beth's quill flew across her parchment as if it had wings. None of the applicable work was done, but Beth still found herself immersed in the various substances and materials and how each would affect the potion in minute ways. To think that one stir the wrong way or a few grains.

Beth didn't think the class was anywhere near as bad as anyone had made it out to be, even if Snape was like an oversized bat, lurking in between the desks and eyeing the students dubiously. One would have thought that Snape had been doing this a while and was simply annoyed with students at this point, but beneath his curtain of oily hair, Beth thought he was rather young.

Upon the bell ringing, the students shuffled, more than eager to escape the class with Professor Snape and head off to their last period of the day. Beth rejoined her companions after being set away from them for the entirety of the class and dwelled lightly on the subject they had just departed.

"Uhg," Ford groaned, trying to shake the imaginary cobwebs from his shoulders and arms. "That man gives me the heeby-jeebies."

"I know what you mean, it was like he was gazing into my soul, reading all of my secrets," Cayenne admitted, horror struck and disconcerted by the class. "Beth?"

"I thought the subject seems like it'll be interesting," she shrugged, having had her head deep within thought on how fickle Potions was and how much she would enjoy experimenting on her own and testing the balance of ingredients. "I think I'm going to try and brew potions on my own time too. You know, familiarize myself with the ingredients a bit more? I think those are all quite common and I should have them all in my beginner's kit."

"Beth, Beth, Beth... If you think you could ever impress Snape I think you're going to be sorely mistaken," Ford informed her, shaking his head pitifully.

"I'm not trying to impress him, I'm genuinely curious about how just a pinch extra can ruin the integrity of a potion," Beth frowned, wondering where their sense of curiosity was. She had always been genuinely interested in the sciences, which many of the daydreams manifested in. Why? She would always ask why? And if she could, she'd want to test and see for herself. Back home that hadn't been something she could do too frequently, but at Hogwarts she didn't see why brewing some potions to help her understand application and use was such a strange idea.

"Have you always liked learning this much?" Cayenne asked her earnestly.

"Yes, I love learning new things. I mean... there were always the more boring subjects like History and English... The only good purpose for writing is to create papers and knowledge that you can pass on to others. I've never been fond of story books or novels," Beth admitted, thinking back to her astronomy book that she'd favorited for so many years. Now that she was going to actually be taking an Astronomy class, she was eager to see how to apply her current knowledge into whatever uses magic had for astronomy.

"English? What's an English class? My mother taught me up until I got my letter to Hogwarts," Ford said, shining a light on how Muggle-raised and wizarding families were different.

"It's basically writing and reading. You know, grammar and punctuation, eventually they want you to write silly stories and show how good your word choice is... I mean, you can show word choice in an essay, but loads of other students were more than happy to get the chance to not write something factual."

"You're quite strange, Beth," Ford told her without faltering.

A pit formed in her belly as they walked through the halls to their final class on their first day. Strange? Beth didn't want to be strange? What was so strange about her? "Oh... In what sort of way?"

Ford snorted and broke out in a small fit of laughter. "Not bad..." he said as if it were obvious. "You're just very... peculiar. Most other kids our age wouldn't really have the same mindset you do. I dunno how to phrase it... like... sciency and you enjoy the intricacies that everyone else would rather overlook. How many people want to spend their spare time experimenting with potion supplies to see how each reacts?"

"I wouldn't mind it," the voice gave them all a start and when the trio turned around, Bill Weasley was there behind them with a friendly smile. "You're thinking of testing out some potions?"

Ford's words had made her feel a little better, but the fact that anyone thought she was abnormal was a bit hurtful. He hadn't meant to be so, but the little seeds of self doubt and depreciation had been planted so long ago. However, Bill's appearance and agreement with her made a shaky smile unfurl on her face. "Oh, I didn't really plan a time yet," Beth admitted to her own chagrin.

"I think Snape is going to have us brew the Cure for Boils next week, so we could experiment a bit this weekend if we don't have too much homework," Bill suggested as they strolled into the large Charms classroom.

"Oh Bill, you wouldn't believe what Beth did this morning," Ford inhaled deeply, about to give all the details of their little exchange with the Slytherins when they all sat down at the long tiered classroom for Charms. "Part of me was thinking, why wasn't Beth sorted into Gryffindor and then I realized, because if she had been then she wouldn't have been able to cover for Cayenne."

"Cover? Cover what?" Bill's eyes went from Ford to Beth. "Is he always this dramatic?"

"One of us has to be the storyteller of the group and it's not me," Beth shrugged, which elicited a giggle from Cayenne.

"You might have heard a rumor about a Hufflepuff getting one over on a Slytherin this morning," Ford glanced at his fingernails in disdain, as if he wasn't interested by the topic in the slightest.

"I might have heard a little about it... I mean, I sort of saw it when those girls came hopping around to Potions with their legs locked. I can only imagine the trouble they had getting down the stairs and Snape reversed the curse. They didn't really know who had done it other than they were Hufflepuffs and Snape seemed a bit more fussed that they'd let it happen to themselves than anything," Bill explained.

Ford leaned forward and in a small whisper, "Beth did it."

Bill's eyebrows shot up. Beth had been trying her hardest not to seem interested, but a bit of pride swelled in her heart as she placed her ink bottle on the desk and was carefully arranging her quill and parchment, which was quite unlike her.

"She was defending me," Cayenne added, leaning in front of Beth to whisper to Bill. "I guess the Slytherins were saying things all class and they knocked my bag off of me and spilled my belongings. They were laughing their way out the door when Beth hit them..."

"I mean..." Beth began dolefully, thumbing her wand in her pocket. "No one picks on my friends." Friends. Could she even call them that yet? It'd barely been a day and she already felt a fierce loyalty toward the few that she'd been spending time with. Even Bill she felt as if she had a special connection with given their equal aptitude and intrigue by school. Had she been a bit hasty in already sending curses flying in the direction of someone who'd brushed a bag off of an acquaintance? "They were doing the blood thing again... like on the train. Thinking they were better than Cayenne because her mother is a Muggle-born witch like me."

Cayenne gasped. "They said all of that?"

"Yeah and that your dad had good blood until he'd married her. Then they went and pushed you and it really set me off," Beth grumbled, wondering if Ford had also heard them during the class.

"Then they deserved it," Bill shrugged. "Why people think they're above others just on the basis of blood is beyond me. It's kind of ironic because they're never the brightest either. My mum has said that's thanks years of inbreeding between the Sacred Twenty-Eight."

Beth had learned who the Sacred Twenty-Eight were when with Bill on the train. However, she didn't think much on it considering that she was just happy that Bill hadn't thought poorly of her actions. Fear of losing her new friends was so great that Beth didn't know if she could bear it. Just a day into her Hogwarts adventure and she was not willing to let any of them go.

She knew what it was like to know no friends aside from her older brother.

The class quieted when a very tiny wizard entered. He was wizened by fringy white hair and beard, his small eyes twinkling beneath his spectacles as he spoke in a very high voice, "Hello, hello."

Professor Flitwick took attendance for the class before beginning to explain the importance of Charms and how most spells would be charms. He quickly went over a syllabus and explained what they would be working to accomplish during their first year. He spent so much time explaining this that they hadn't even gotten to lift their wands all class. A few students were perturbed by this, having the hopes that they would learn some magic to practice, to which their expectations fell flat.

Beth thought Flitwick was exceptionally kind and sweet, but it made her curious as to what sort of teacher he would be. Helpful certainly, but she also thought he might not be as tough on students as he ought to be. This was evident by his allowing of a pair of Gryffindor girls to quietly chat with each other during his lesson without batting an eye in their direction. Beth thought that they were rude and knew that neither Snape or McGonagall would have stood for it, but Flitwick had simply plowed onward.

"Have you got any homework yet?" Bill asked Beth as the first day's classes had already come to a close.

"Yeah, Professor Snape assigned homework. He wants an essay on the Cure for Boils potion, which I suppose will be easy enough," Beth told him as they set off for the library, Cayenne and Ford peeling away as they didn't want to waste their second evening already fussing over classwork that was just going to pile up. However, Beth felt cozy and warm, eager to put quill to parchment and begin her essay, even if it was for Professor Snape.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

* * *

Classes were going in the direction that Beth had assumed. As expected, Transfiguration was fastly her favorite class. Even if the other students were intimidated by the tall and glaring McGonagall, Beth thought she was an absolute genius. They began simply with the Transfiguration alphabet, when Beth thought was a little rudimentary, but she did not complain, soaking the information like a sponge. With a few days passed, she was beginning to see where she fit in the best and which subjects she disliked.

Transfiguration being her favorite, Potions was actually a close runner up. Defence might have been more exciting had the professor been competent. Beth thought that Professor Butters was an absolute joke, much to Bill's disappointment. Where he had even been found was questionable as well. Their first lessons were focused entirely on vampires, which Professor Butters was convinced would rise up to attack wizard kind. While learning about vampires was not a bad thing, it certainly wasn't the only dark creature they should be prepared for.

Charms, Herbology, and Astronomy were not her favorite subjects, though they certainly had relevant application. And History of Magic, aside from Defence, was her least favorite.

Their third Thursday was coming to a close, but before it did the first years had their flying lessons with Madam Hooch. There were quite a few students in this class, being corralled quickly like cattle to stand in front of school brooms. Until this point they had only handled the brooms basically, cleaning and waxing the handles, combing through the bristles. They learned theory on how to mount and kick off, but they had not attempted it just yet.

Mildred ended up next to Beth in the line and across from them, Beth noticed Bill and a few other Gryffindors. There was a mute smile and wave given, they remained quiet as Madam Hooch was barking out directions to those that were just walking up to join them.

"Hustle! We haven't got all day and there's enough of you that we'll be here forever if you don't take your positions," she glanced down at her watch, then striding over to apprehend the late students who were trying to cross the courtyard swiftly, but were not quick enough.

Mildred puffed a bit, her round cheeks flushed.

"Are you feeling alright?" Beth asked her.

"Just a bit warm, innit?" Mildred asked, tugging at her collar and giving a slight chuckle.

Beth thought it was rather nice out, a mild breeze bringing in a fresh autumn wind. Even with the sun out it was still rather cool out, but perhaps some people felt the heat of the sun more than others.

Madam Hooch returned with a vengeance, sweeping through with her dark cloak, her bright yellow eyes scanning the first years as she made her rounds through the lines and made certain everyone was standing to the left of a broom.

"For today's lesson we will be mounting and hovering. There will be no flying today, as we need to establish the basics of broom control. We've gotten familiar over the past couple of weeks with the parts of a broom and how to clean them proper. Now, it is of the utmost importance that you all follow my directions clearly, being that there are so many of you," Madam Hooch started the class, projecting her voice well to the assorted first years.

"I don't want to fly..." Mildred mumbled under her breath, barely audible as Hooch continued.

"Now, first you'll need to get your brooms into your hands," she stood at the head of the lines and used a strong and commanding voice, "Up!" The broom rocketed up into her hand and she caught it, without being as startled as the students nearest to her. "Give it a try now. You'll want to be firm with the broom."

The moment that Hooch gave them permission, the students began crying "Up!", hoping that their brooms would heed their command. Beth glanced down at the polished handle of her own and clearly declared, "Up!" The broom bolted up into her hand, which she gripped firmly, startled that it had been so easy. Turning her eyes around, she expected to see similar results, but just like Transfiguration, she watched as her peers had issues getting their brooms to leave the ground.

Ford was very nearly screaming at his broom which wiggled like a limp noodle on the ground, unwilling to do more than roll around.

It took Bill until his second demand that his broom also shot into his hand.

Beside her, Mildred was quietly asking the broom to go up, her hand quivering slightly as she watched it remain motionless on the ground. "Up... Up..." she whimpered, petrified of the broom moving.

_Whack!_

A few students down, Ford was howling in fury as he held his nose where the broom had delivered an angry whap after being so rudely summoned. Madam Hooch came over to inspect his nosebleed, clucking to herself, though the nearby Slytherins were chortling at his pain.

It took awhile for everyone to get their brooms up, but finally they were all standing with brooms in hand.

"Now, mount your brooms and ease onto the handle. I want you all to kick up and hover for a moment before touching back down," Hooch instructed, watching as her students swung their legs over the brooms and hunched their legs down before kicking off.

The broom reacted as expected and Beth leaned forward to guide it back down, her feet touching back down in the grass. Much of the same occurred around her, except that Mildred's broom wasn't bringing her back to the ground, nor was that of three other students. Instead, their brooms hovered in the air, despite the riders leaning forward to ease themselves back onto the ground.

"Touch back down," Madam Hooch insisted to the three students that had failed to come back down yet. "Lean forward."

But panic was beginning to consume them as the brooms refused to move. Suddenly, the brooms all sputtered on their own. The Ravenclaw girl's broom began twirling uncontrollably, spinning her upside down and right side up with rapid speed. She clung on for dear life, but soon her groans could be heard as she was getting sick and dizzy.

The male Gryffindor who had been unable to touch down also found his broom reacting violently. His began moving up and bouncing back onto the grass by the handle, pinging on the ground like a bouncy ball around the courtyard, the handle splinting and beginning to fray from the amount of force he was being whipped with.

And Mildred, the poor, terrified Mildred was rising higher and higher until her broom barrelled toward one of the stone walls of the castle. There was no controlling the broom and it smashed hard into the grey bricks, the handle cracking and the broom turning on end as it then proceeding to mush its bristles into the wall as well. The broom quivered and then rocketed toward the sky, spinning and spinning, until the increase of altitude and motion made Mildred so sick that she let go of her broom.

The Ravenclaw girl had also fallen to a heap beneath her madly contorting broom, though it had not been far from the ground. But Mildred was dropping from hundreds of feet.

Madam Hooch whipped out her wand and muttered an incantation that slowed Mildred's limp body, items streaming from out of her pockets as she fell like a graceful diver. Once Mildred was rescued and softly touched the earth, Hooch turned to glance at the Gryffindor boy that had not yet let go of his bouncing broom. He had very little left to hold onto as wood had cracked and the bristles were nearly gone.

Whatever jinx had taken over it, Hooch was quick to stop it, the broom halting and the boy slithering to the ground where he was shaking uncontrollably.

Madam Hooch helped him back to check on the Ravenclaw girl who was throwing up her lunch and breakfast, her skin paler than marble and her eyes unable to focus on anything. Cayenne and Tierra had flocked to Mildred's side, who was still unconscious from the terror she had just been subjected to.

"Put all your brooms down," Madam Hooch hissed, trying to assess what her next move would be. She glanced down into the Gryffindor boy's hands and clucked gently. The skin was chafed and covered in splinters from where the broom handle had broken. "Oh dear, you're all going to need to go to the Hospital Wing..." her eyes moved to the students nearest to her. "Help me take these students to Madam Pomfrey. I'll need two to help carry Ms. Spinner," she needn't give directions to help Mildred as Cayenne and Tierra were already pulling her to her feet, slinging an arm around each of their shoulders. "Now, while I am gone no one is to leave the ground. If any of you are caught flying you will spend the rest of the year in detention," she threatened before guiding the Gryffindor back into the castle along with the two other students.

"Did you notice that it was one from each house except Slytherin?" Bill observed quietly as he trotted up alongside of Beth.

"Do you think they jinxed the brooms when Madam Hooch wasn't looking? That seems a bit... of high expectation for them," Beth considered, but when she glanced down at the Slytherins who were bundling up like a pack of wolves, prowling over the grass with their broomsticks in hand.

"Maybe it wasn't one of them... but an older student. Who brought all the brooms out here and where do they usually sit?" Bill asked, mostly rhetorically, but he frowned as the group of Slytherins stopped to pick something up.

"Definitely one of them," Ford grumbled, his voice muffled by his nose which had tissues balled up and stuck in his nostrils. "I bet they did something to my broom too."

Bill and Bethany exchanged glances, but neither thought that Ford's broomed had been jinxed and he'd just been shouting 'Up!' too forcefully. "They could have really hurt someone, I don't know why they did it," Beth sighed, adjusting her headband, her plait swinging behind her.

"To get a laugh. Who knows what Slytherins think," Ford said grudgingly.

"Maybe they were trying to hurt someone specifically," Bill pointed out, narrowing his eyes as someone wagged a notebook above their head. "What have they got there?"

The three trailed closer along with some of the other students who had their interest piqued by the leather bound notebook being waved in the air like a trophy. "Look at this!" a female Slytherin squealed with delight, bringing the book down and flipping through it. "That fat piggie dropped her diary. Must've had it on her when she fell," it was Laurel.

Beth's temper flared immediately at Mildred being referred to as a pig. Sure, she was a little overweight, but she was really self conscious about it and was working hard to lose some of her chub! Beth had witnessed how Mildred would only eat vegetables at all meals and carefully divided her portions.

"Hey!" Ford shouted, though he was much less intimidating seeing that he sounded so nasally. "Give it here! That's not yours!"

The Slytherins turned, their haughty faces bright with delight as they looked down at Ford. "Why?" Laurel asked him contemptuously. "Look, let's see..." she flipped through the pages and gasped as she found some juicy notes.

"_Today I only ate peas. I think I've noticed a considerable amount of weight loss since starting school and my mum isn't forcing food down my throat. "Eat up Mildred, you'll want your strength" she'd always say, even if she was fattening me up like a holiday turkey. I miss her now, her cooking was always so good, even if it did get me to this point.-_"

Ford took a menacing step forward. "You're not supposed to be reading that!"

But the other Slytherins stepped in front of him, boys that were much larger than the slight and sinewy Ford. He reached for his wand, but he was outnumbered five to one. So Laurel continued, turning her voice into a mock of what she thought Mildred's sounded like, slow and deep, even though Mildred sounds nothing like that.

"_I had a hard time in Potions. Professor Snape scares me as he lurks around, always glaring in my direction as if he despises me as much as I hate myself. At least my Potions partner Gerry is really nice. He smells sort of like cloves and the pages of books-_" Laurel made a retching sound and Beth noticed that the Ravenclaw that Mildred's diary referred to was standing nearby, his face turning pink.

Beth could hear the blood pounding in her ears, the heat rising to her face, and she had turned a darker shade of scarlet than the blood being staunched in Ford's nostrils. "You've had your fun, give it here," Beth said, her voice ringing out loud and with clarity over the sniggering of the Slytherins.

Laurel arched a brow at her, glancing between the defiant expressions on Bill and Ford's face. "And what are you going to do about it?" she sneered, snapping the diary shut. "I think I'll make copies of this diary and send it around the school for everyone to read. Maybe Miss Piggie will kill herself."

"Don't you joke about that!" Bill snarled his wand whipping from out of his robes, knuckles white on the broom he held.

"What, do you really think anyone would miss her?" Laurel's voice was full of pity, but not for Mildred. "She's an oaf, hates herself, and it's a surprise she even got to Hogwarts with the lack of talent she has."

"Give it here Crane, that'll be your last warning," Beth told her evenly.

"Or what? Do you believe this?" Laurel glanced at the other Slytherins, her lips twisting up in a malicious smile. "This mudblood really has the audacity to boss _me_, a pure-blood, around?"

Bill didn't hesitate at Laurel's words. "_Orbis_!" he pointed his wand at the feet of the Slytherins blocking their way and their feet sank into the ground, they were all pulled close together too as if a black hole as drawn them in and vacuumed them into the soil.

He might have snared the boys in front of him, but Laurel was leaning against her broom and beginning to float away. "You want it mudblood? Why don't you come and get it?"

Wands were still being drawn, but Ford had his out as well. Beth was about to stand with Bill and Ford, but Ford shook his head. "Go get it Beth!"

Beth mounted her own broom, nonplussed by the punishment that Hooch had threatened. Enough of Mildred's personal diary had already been read for all the first years to hear and if the cost of flying to protect the rest meant detentions for the entire year, then Beth would trade it a hundred times over.

The broom rose beneath her and Laurel appeared impressed that she'd even dared to take a single foot off the ground. "Guess what they say about Hufflepuffs is correct. '_No truer friends_' even if you are all losers," she snorted.

"Give it to me. You've already had your laugh," Beth said, straining to keep her voice even.

"I don't think I will," she said after a moment of contemplating. "You'll have to come and take it if you really want it."

Beth's nostrils flared and she leaned into her broom, a rather natural instinct to press forward. The broom zoomed beneath her as she pelted toward Laurel. For someone who had never ridden a broom, she found that keeping balance was similar to that of a bike, though the wind clawed wildly at her braid and face. Robes swirling around her, she watched as Laurel's eyes stretched in mild disbelief and she turned to accelerate her own broom.

For all of the posturing Laurel had put up, she wasn't as certain on a broom as Beth felt. Fueled by fury and righteousness, she barely noticed that they were weaving in between the castle turrets, the wind so strong that it delayed the speed of the brooms. Beth tucked in and swept higher, coming over the top of one of the spires and watched as Laurel circled around and toward the woods. Beth directed her broom back down and began plummeting toward Laurel like a falcon swooping for prey, talons outstretched.

Beth collided with Laurel hard, nearly knocking the Slytherin right off of her broom. Shrieking, Laurel released the diary so that she could grasp the handle of her broom firmly with both hands. The book began plummeting and realizing that she'd lost the game, Laurel ascended once more and hightailed it back for the courtyard before she was missed. Beth's eyes were only focused on one thing; the diary.

Nosing down straight for the book, it flapped like an injured bird through the air, the spread pages slowing its descent toward the greenhouses. With outstretched fingers she snagged the edge of the leather binding, some loose pages fluttering out like dislodged feathers before she seized the handle of her broom and tugged up as hard as her straining muscles would allow. The broom wasn't quick and narrowly swept up from the ground, Beth's loafers dusting the tall grass beneath her as she steadied the broom and beamed at the notebook.

She was hovering, tucking Mildred's diary into the inner pocket of her robes when she heard a, "What in Merlin's beard is going on!?"

Dread filled her from head to toe and Beth turned her broom around in midair to see her Head of House, Professor Sprout, exiting the rear of Greenhouse 2 with a throng of fifth years in tow. How much Sprout had witnessed was beyond Beth, but she knew it was obvious that Madam Hooch wouldn't have let her fly across the grounds.

"I-I-I-" but the excuses wilted in her mouth.

"Where's Madam Hooch?" Professor Sprout demanded.

"Hospital Wing," Beth croaked, bringing her broom to the ground, standing in the knee high grass with her shoulders sagging in shame. "Some students were injured by jinxed brooms."

"And you thought you could fly around all willy-nilly without her supervising?" Madam Sprout asked her tartly, crossing her arms.

"No..." she didn't try to tell her why. She didn't want Mildred's notebook to be taken again.

"Take a seat out here Ms. Hiddleston and wait until the end of class so I can decide what to do with you," Professor Sprout pointed to a bench outside the greenhouse and Beth dragged herself over, sitting in the chair as she stared blankly at the dirt.

Some of the fifth years were eyeing her, a mixture of disbelief and amusement as Professor Sprout ushered them back into the greenhouse to continue their class as if they hadn't been interrupted in the first place. Beth simply sat, waiting for the class to be over. Madam Hooch would know she was missing upon returning and counting the brooms once they were turned in. There was simply little hope in trying to worm her way out of this situation and Beth didn't think she deserved any less punishment. She knew what it would cost to get up on the broom.

Beth glanced at her watch anxiously and soon enough the end of the day had come. The fifth years began filtering out from the door beside her and she recognized some older Hufflepuffs passing by her. "That was some superb flying there Hiddleston," a boy named Nathan Tigress told her.

"You saw?" she asked quietly.

"We all did, clear as day out of the top of the greenhouse. Nearly knocked that Slytherin right off her broom. I almost wished you did," he snorted.

"Off you go, class is over," Professor Sprout came out, sending Tigress on his way so that she could put her hands on her hips and stare at Beth disapprovingly. However, clutched in her gloved hand were a few of the missing pages from Mildred's journal. "Now, would you care to explain to me what you were doing flying after a Slytherin?"

Beth opened her mouth, but no words came out. She drew a breath, steadying herself before, "She had Mildred Fletching's diary. Said she was going to spread it around the school and had read some of it out loud... I had to get it back," Beth told her miserably.

"Well, it's lucky for you that the both of you knew your way around a broom. I must admit I haven't seen a first year fly quite like you. Given the circumstances..." Professor Sprout sighed and deflated, all the pent up animosity and anger leaving her body in one low breath. She might have tried to posture like McGonagall, but she wasn't able to unleash punishment on her like the Gryffindor Head of House. She opened her mit to reveal a drawing of the dorm room that Mildred had made.

It was actually quite good, hewn in graphite from the entrance door and looking upon the four beds and three girls inside. Mildred had drawn each of them in their likeness; Tierra with her wild black curls, Cayenne with her kind smile and freckled cheeks, and Beth with her headband and friendly expression, lips curved up slightly. On the back of the crumpled drawing was a title: My Friends.

"You've got the journal?" Sprout asked her.

Beth reached to touch it, but did not withdraw it, staring up at the professor with suspicion.

"I don't want to read it, just thought we should return these pages inside," Professor Sprout told her with a gentle voice.

Beth withdrew the journal and accepted the pieces of loose parchment from her, carefully smoothing them out and placing them back inside the leather notebook. "What's my punishment professor? I disobeyed the rules."

"Punishment?" Sprout echoed forlorn. "Oh no... you had a just reason for breaking the rules. My punishment has already been served and that's been to make you reflect on what you've done for the past twenty minutes. Now... about those skills on a broom. Are you aware that Hufflepuff is looking for a new Seeker?"

* * *

Beth didn't get away with just a tap on the wrist. In fact, Professor Sprout had only just managed to talk Madam Hooch out of giving her detention for the entire year and commuted it into two detentions to be served cleaning and servicing brooms on Saturdays, which in Beth's opinion was just as bad as she spent Saturdays on potions with Bill. Still, she had gotten away rather unscathed and had even held onto Mildred's journal until the girl had returned from the hospital wing.

Mildred appeared more nervous than before, word no doubt reaching her that part of her journal had been read out loud to all of her peers. However, her face relaxed when Beth handed it over to her, a little wind raggled, but alright otherwise. "How did you... I heard that Crane flew off with it," Mildred blubbered in the warm light from the setting sun which cast a warm amber glow in the Hufflepuff Basement.

"I flew after her," Beth told her. "I mean, Ford and Bill helped distract the other Slytherins. So you should thank them too. I bet you anything that Crane's shoulder is bruised badly after I almost knocked her off her broom."

"You hit her that hard?" Mildred gasped in disbelief.

"Should have seen her," a fifth year girl turned around, having overheard the conversation. "Swooped down like an eagle on a rabbit, talons unfurled. The snake dropped your notebook and flew off, a bit rattled. And then Hiddleston swooped down and scooped it up before it hit the ground, real stellar stuff here. Most people wouldn't have attempted that, she basically did a Wronski Feint, minus the Snitch and other Seeker, but you get the picture."

Mildred crushed her journal to her chest and gave Beth a look of such adoration that Beth felt the cockles of her heart warm and a dumb, silly smile unfurled on her face. "I mean... I just followed it," her ears burned.

"I really appreciate it Beth. It could have been much worse than a couple of paragraphs... but..." Mildred trailed off and her eyes began collecting with tears. "Now everyone knows how I feel about myself." Before Beth knew what was happening, Mildred was crying and sniffling and the smile was erased from her face.

"Don't cry! Please don't cry!" Beth said, straining her voice so she wasn't yelling at her.

"I-I can't help it. They all call me Miss Piggie and oink at me in the hallways. I feel faint everyday from not eating enough and it doesn't change anything, I'm still a whale," Mildred sobbed, turning heads in the common room.

"Well... Well we'll go running every morning then! If you really want to lose weight perhaps changing your diet isn't the only way. Getting some more exercise in might help you," Beth offered before she knew what she was doing. She didn't want to get up early to go running, she was in perfectly good health. However, as Mildred stared at her with eyes overflowing with tears, Beth couldn't help but make promises she didn't want to keep.

"You would do that?" Mildred sniffled, wiping her nose and eyes on her sleeve.

"Yeah, we can start tomorrow morning if you're feeling good enough. I know today wasn't exactly great," Beth offered, regretting each word that came out of her mouth, but Mildred brightened at it.

"And I'll be your nutritionist honey," Ford materialized out of nowhere and placed his hand on Mildred's shoulder, giving her a firm and reassuring squeeze. "You know, you're just a bit more mature than we are. Give it a couple more years and we'll all even out. I bet Beth is going to be the biggest one here. Look how big her feet are."

He pointed to Beth's feet, which were a bit large for a girl her age. She frowned at him, but him pointing out the defects in other people seemed to make Mildred not feel as bad about herself. "Thanks for that..." Beth grumbled, tucking her feet under her chair and pulling out her Transfiguration book out.

* * *

Just as promised, Beth began waking up early to take Mildred on morning runs. Beth's legs might have been shorter than her counterpart's but Beth was able to keep them churning with ease. Often, she had to slow down to let Mildred catch up, but she didn't mind as her eyes would scan the changing scenery at Hogwarts. They would start down the courtyard path and toward Hagrid's hut before circling round to follow the lake. The last portion was uphill and they were forced to walk it the first two days as Mildred huffed and puffed with exhaustion. Beth ran backwards, shouting words of encouragement as she tried to get Mildred running again.

Ford was a much crueller mistress than she was. He watched Mildred like an angry vulture, his nose still red from its encounter with the broom. He spotted Mildred picking up a muffin and slapped it out of her hand, sending it rolling down the table like a decapitated head.

"Just because you ran doesn't mean you can cheat," Ford scolded as Mildred rubbed her hand dolefully. "Now, eat your eggs and fruit. Much healthier for you."

Beth was munching on a piece of toast, flipping through her Potions book as she contemplated which she had the materials for to work on with Bill.

"Do you ever get your nose out of that book?" Ford groaned.

"Only to put it into my Transfiguration work," Beth told him before she washed down her food with some coffee. "I'm going to be working on the Wiggenweld with Bill today. Cure for Boils is rather simple and I think I mastered it a while ago."

"Sorry we can't all be as adept at Potions," Ford grumbled. His own attempt at the Cure for Boils potion had been disastrous. Rather than cure boils it made them turn green and excrete slime instead of pus.

"Try not to sound too jealous," Beth retorted offhandedly as she turned the page, rereading the instructions for the umpteenth time.

"Jealous? I'm not jealous," Ford snorted, but the injury was clear in his voice. For some reason, Ford always became envious whenever Beth spent time with just Bill. He never seemed to mind it when the three or four of them (including Cayenne) were with Bill. However, he was incredibly affronted any time Beth slipped away to the library with him or spent her weekends brewing potions with Bill or learning new spells.

Ford had stuck to Beth like glue and didn't like to be shaken off. By now, she knew it wasn't because he had some sort of crush on her, it was blatantly obvious that he was more comfortable around females and not because he was attracted to them. Ford was slightly ostracized from the males in their year, due to his flamboyant nature and finicky attitude. But Bill was always a sore point for him, as if he were always comparing himself to Bill.

Bill exceeded at every subject he took and loved to contemplate theories and test magic with Beth because she had a similar mindset and a brain just as curious and intellectual. Ford lacked in this area and had been invited to join them before, only to find that he couldn't relate or contribute to their intricate conversations and musings. So, he complained and appeared wounded whenever Beth was about to go spend time with Bill.

Beth treasured Ford's friendship, but not in the same manner as Bill. Ford was her class companion, always by her side, and they understood one another in a more primal and emotional way. Ford could always read her, it was his best talent. He was uncanny in his ability to read anyone and to know how to make people happy or upset.

"You could always join us if you'd like. After all, it'll help you improve your grade if you aren't attempting the potion for the first time while Professor Snape is grading it," Beth suggested lightly, making an annotation beside the Flobberworm Mucus.

"I've already accepted my fate to be terrible at Potions," Ford relinquished. "Millie! No!" he slapped a piece of toast from her hand this time. "No carbs!"

Mildred groaned in defeat as Beth stood up, collecting her things and throwing them into her cauldron. "Try not to be too depressed by my temporary absence," she told Ford, who mimicked her in a high voice as if she were annoying.

Beth smirked to herself in amusement as she trailed out of the Great Hall and began down through the corridors to the empty classroom that she and Bill had been granted permission to utilize by Professor McGonagall. A high pitched chuckle caught her attention and she glanced up to see Peeves floating above her as if he were floating on an invisible lazy river.

The poltergeist was dressed in a jester's outfit and his lips twisted up in a dark, whimsical manner as he espied her, a student actually heading to a class. Unlike his fellow spirits, Peeves was solid rather than translucent and his outfit was garishly colored.

"Hiddle-widdle... Hiddle-widdle..." he sang, following Beth down the hallway. "Hiddle-Widdle riddle me this, what rooms do ghosts avoid?"

For some reason Peeves like to ask her riddles because it rhymed with her name. She should have been thankful that was all Peeves liked to bother her about, but he was still irritating. "Go away Peeves," Beth sighed.

"Not until Hiddle-Widdle answers the riddle."

"Uh, the living room, now go away!" Beth said, momentary placating Peeves with the correct answer. Hurrying into the classroom she shut the door as if the solid material could keep Peeves from phasing through it.

Bill glanced up from how notes with a bemused expression, noting how she leaned against the door as if she were trying to shut out the world. "Is Peeves still lurking around?" he asked her.

'"It's almost as if he gets bored on weekends," Beth sighed, shaking her head, thankful that a little riddle was all she had escaped with. She set her cauldron on the table beside Bill's and set her pack filled with potions ingredients next to it. Carefully, she began removing the jars and boxes.

"I think he does. Less students roaming the halls for him to bother. I don't think he can go inside of common rooms," Bill theorized, a clattering ring resounding from the hallways, where Peeves had probably possessed a suit of armor again. "So the Wiggenweld Potion today?"

"Yes," Beth said a smile unfurling over her face as she opened the dogeared page that started the potion. "It's a rather lengthy potion so I don't think I'll have the supplies to make it again if we mess up and I doubt Professor Snape will be kind enough to let us dip into his stores..."

"I also feel like I'm beginning to wane on my personal supplies," Bill admitted a bit disappointed. "I might be able to convince McGonagall that we need more for studying purposes."

"If you can convince her, I have a feeling that we'll be questioned as to what we're doing with the potions afterward," Beth frowned. She didn't think it was a bad thing for her to have her hands on some healing potions if the need ever arose to utilize it. In fact, she was very interested in seeing how well the Wiggenweld could heal. "Alright, so for supplies we've got Wiggentree bark, Moly, Dittany, one pint of Horklump juice, Flobberworm Mucus, Chizpurfle Fangs, Billywig sting slime, mint, Boom Berry juice, Stew Mandrake, Honeywater, Sloth brain Mucus, Moondew drops, Salamander blood, Lionfish spines, Unicorn horn, and Wolfsbane," with each called she set the material out from her bag in order.

"A tall list," Bill also emptied his own bag and Beth noticed that his pewter cauldron had been recently patched up. Unlike her own, it was very weathered and had gotten a lot of use out of it before he came to Hogwarts. Beth had never asked him about it, but she had an inkling that with so many children, the Weasleys couldn't afford the nicest things. Even Beth had better materials than Bill and that was only because her mother had been ferreting away money. "Alright where to start," he skimmed his finger along the first line of the recipe and started with the simple base that it required.

Beth emptied her cauldron and also started.

"You've got detention with Madam Hooch tonight, don't you?" Bill recalled casually as he picked up his bottle of salamander's blood.

"Yeah, I don't think it'll be too bad. Could have been much worse," Beth added salamander blood to the base with a dropper, waiting until the potion had turned a magnificent crimson and marked down in her book that it'd taken 7 drops of blood to do so.

"And you've been going on runs with Mildred too?"

"Mhm, I hope it does help her, she's so self conscious and it would do her well to feel better about herself, she's such a sweet and considerate person," she was stirring the potion now, one, two, three, four- Orange. Another mark in her book.

"It sort of amazes me how much you manage to get done while multitasking with your friends," Bill admitted, adding more salamander blood to his cauldron.

"What?" Beth lost count of how many drops she had added to turn her potion yellow. Three? Right, it was three. Scrawling this note down she set the blood down and began stirring again. "I mean... I do what I can. And my marks aren't nearly as high in every subject as yours are. I've only got you beat in Potions and Transfiguration."

Bill rolled his eyes at her. "And you spend more time trying to help other people. I bet if you spent half the time I do studying then your marks would be just as high... and you are still getting good grades."

"What? You study without me?" she pretended that she was offended at this, scoffing at him as she marked that it took an additional 12 drops of salamander blood to turn her potion to turquoise. With the tip of her wand she lit the burner underneath her cauldron and began heating the potion. She dampered the heat when it became indigo; 2 1/2 seconds.

"Hard to believe isn't it?" Bill drolled, glancing over at her potion and frowning. "How did you get it so vibrant already?"

"How many drops of salamander blood did you add?" his potion was a sickly yellow.

"Four-"

Beth tsked at him. "You're still early enough to start over. It only took me three."

Bill suppressed a groan and pointed his wand at the cauldron, emptying it. He started again, glancing over at the notes that Beth had made, how many drops and turns it took, whether they were clockwise or counterclockwise.

"I don't always study," Bill said as he began over quickly. "But I do wish we had been sorted into the same house. It would make everything a bit easier."

"You mean you don't like having a classroom on a Saturday all to ourselves?" feigned disbelief penetrated her tone and she glanced over at him as she reheated her potion, her eyes round like saucers.

Bill snorted and added another drop too many, cursing slightly beneath his breath. "Dammit Beth," but as he emptied it again, he was smiling.

"At this rate Bill, you're going to use all the salamander blood in the school," Beth told him, her brows raised as she added her lionfish spines, first crushing them to make certain the fine powder would integrate better with the potion. She had found that adding the entire spines were not as potent and always prepared her spines in this manner.

"So about Thursday..." Bill began, springing for another tangent rather than the one she was using to poke fun at him. "What really happened after Professor Sprout found you?"

"What do you mean by 'what really happened'?" Beth returned, her potion yellow again so that she could add five more crushed lionfish spines.

"I've heard from the Hufflepuffs plenty enough that you flew spectacularly. However... I have a feeling you aren't telling us everything," Bill replied, his eyes on his potion so that he would not make a mistake again.

"I went back to the courtyard with Professor Sprout and she talked to Madam Hooch about lessening my punishment because I'd gone to get my friend's journal. That's about it," but her voice and face contorted at the last line, becoming hoarse as she hastily tried to clear her throat.

"Are all Hufflepuffs as miserable at lying as you are?" Bill inquired perceptively.

"I can't tell, Professor Sprout told me I couldn't. Not until after-" but she stopped herself, realizing that she was about to give away what she'd promised not to.

"After what?" Bill looked up expectantly, clinging to her cliffhanger.

"Uh..." she began adding honey water to the potion.

"You know I won't tell anyone if you tell me," Bill sighed emphatically, disappointed that Beth was upholding her word to her Head of House.

"I... I'm on the Quidditch team now. But Professor Sprout doesn't want anyone to know until after try-outs. I expect a lot of Hufflepuffs are going to try for the Seeker spot..." Beth blurted out, quickly turning her eyes back down to the potion which she began scrutinizing for no good reason other than the fact that she felt bad about breaking her promise.

"Really?" Bill's brows shot up and he halted his work. "Beth, you know that first years are never allowed on the Quidditch team, right? That's incredible. You're incredible! Wow, you must have had some moves if Professor Sprout wanted you on the team right after seeing you fly... No wonder she had Madam Hooch lessen your punishment."

"I know, I know, but you can't tell anyone. Ford especially, because I know Ford will go blathering about it if he knew I'd made the team," Beth muttered, thinking of what Ford would do if he learned that she'd told Bill and not him. "But I'm worried..."

"That's only natural," Bill assured her.

"No... I mean I'm worried because my family doesn't have a lot of money. If I'm to be Seeker, I need a better broom than what the school supplies if we are to have any hope of beating Slytherin... or any of the other houses," Beth explained, moving onto the Boom Berry juice.

"Oh," Bill glanced up from his work and there was a profound amount of understanding in his eyes as he looked at her. "It's not always about the broom."

Beth pursed her lips at him, gazing right through his attempt to make her feel better. "Bill I can read Quidditch Catalogues and I know enough that the Shooting Stars we have here are not suited for competitive sports. It barely let me steer up from the ground. My shoes grazed the grass, that could have been my face you know," she informed him, having stared at the prices in the catalogues. It sickened her to do the conversions from Galleons to pounds, though she supposed that brooms were akin to buying a car. "I might not be able to be on the team if I can't even afford the basics like gloves."

"They have extra supplies," Bill said quickly. "And I bet there are some better brooms in the shed. Maybe they just don't let the first years use them."

But Bill's attempt at being hopeful did not lift her spirits. The Shooting Stars were ancient and the one she had ridden was probably among one of the better. It felt nice that someone understood her predicament and that she was on the team, but it barely made up for the fact that Beth was terrified of being rejected by the team after her she had been accepted. Especially if it was just on the sole basis that she couldn't afford a better broom.

Beth let her potion simmer and glanced at her watch as she took a seat. It would take thirty minutes before it was ready to be removed and cooled. Bill was still trying to catch up to her and it took him another ten minutes before he was simmering his own and he took a seat beside her.

"Have you heard anything about the Cursed Vaults?" Bill asked her as they waited.

"No, what are the Cursed Vaults?" Beth's brows pulled together.

"Apparently they're here at Hogwarts. You have the book about the school, so I was kind of hoping maybe you'd read about it in there, but I suppose it's a secret," Bill rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Where did you hear about it?" now that her curiosity was piqued, she glanced at him expectantly.

"An older Gryffindor named Joshua... I don't know I overheard him and some plans he had about opening these Vaults. I wonder if it's all just some writing or a story," Bill considered, but clearly he didn't think so.

"So this Joshua thinks there are Cursed Vaults at Hogwarts? I mean if they're cursed, no wonder they don't want to put it in the books you can readily purchase outside of school. How many parents would want their children to go to a school where there are Cursed Vaults?"

Bill nodded in agreement, but was clearly still distracted by the idea of there being some sort of treasure or secrets right beside them and they had little way of investigating it. "Do you think books on them would be in the Restricted Section?"

"I… suppose if you know where you're looking," Beth admitted, wondering where Bill was going with this, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling at the hint of breaking the rules.

"Nevermind, forget about it. Probably just some legend," Bill murmured, shaking his head.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

* * *

Detention wasn't as bad as Beth thought it was going to be. In fact, she found solace in the silence of polishing brooms and removing debris from bristles. Now that she had been accepted onto the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, she no longer was required to take the flying classes. However, until the try-outs were over and the roster announced, she had to maintain a facade that nothing had changed. During her two detentions, Beth simply went off into her own world where she dwelled on various theories and made a mental checklist of what she might want to work on later.

With September nearly gone, she was astounded by how quickly classes were zooming by. Beth had been exchanging letters with her family, which mostly meant her mother and Oliver, but from both accounts, things were getting better at home. Who would have thought that finding out your daughter was a witch would be what set you straight and made you quit drinking cold turkey. Beth suspected that her father was scared of what else she could do and if she would be allowed to punish him further for being a bad person. Just having his mouth zipped up had been traumatic enough.

With two letters in hand, Beth trotted down the dirt trail that led to the owlery. Ser Gibbleworth was keen and the moment she entered the tower, he fluttered down from the top and landed on her head, clutching to her headband before letting out a twitter of joy, bending down to preen Beth's hair for her. "G-gibbles come down," she fussed, trying to remove the owl from her head, but a smile had spread across her face and she wrestled with him before managing to hook him on her arm.

Ascending the stairs to the top of the tower, Beth scratched behind his dark ear tufts and spoke to him as if he were a human. "Almost October already. I really can't believe it," she murmured, distracted by the other owls roosting at the top. "Time flies faster than you do, doesn't it?" she asked her owl.

Ser Gibbleworth flared up his feathers, taking great offense to the idea that something was better at flying them him. However, he calmed back down when Beth reached beneath his chin and began scratching him there.

Upon reaching the top, she set him on the bannister where she could secure the letters to him. "Send this off to mom and Oliver. I know they'll be wanting to hear from me," she put a hand in her pocket and removed a few treats for Gibbles, who gobbled them up greedily and then rubbed his face in her open palm before ruffling his feathers and spreading his great wings.

Ser Gibbleworth flung himself into the air and began sailing into the after the sunset in the afternoon sky as if he could catch it. Beth watched him disappear on the horizon, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she envied the graceful way he moved.

Finally, after standing on the upper echelon on the owlery, Beth stretched her back and started back down the stairs and toward the path to the castle. She rubbed her eyes, contemplating what she would do next. She had already completed the homework she had been assigned thus far. Maybe she would sift through the library and try to find more books on Transfiguration that she hadn't yet read and taken excessive notes about. She was compiling as much information as she could so that she could approach McGonagall and ask for more advanced lessons as she found class to be too easy and dull.

It wasn't Beth's fault that the other students didn't understand the theory as easily as she did. Their lack of understanding was why they had issues transfiguring items or creatures.

"Well, well, well," a voice said as they were about to cross paths.

Beth had been looking toward the forbidden forest, wondering what creatures lived within it that made it too dangerous for students to traverse. Her eyes turned back to the path to notice that Laurel had her hands on her hips, lips twisted up in a haughty manner. Seemingly, she was alone, but Beth had always seen Laurel with at least one friend.

"All by yourself today?" Laurel inquired. "Usually you've got that blood traitor or your loser Hufflepuff friends with you… Or Miss Piggie."

Beth suppressed a sigh and set her hazel eyes on Laurel with an expression of mild annoyance. The day had been rather quiet and going well for all appearances. Now she had to deal with Laurel, who had made it her personal duty to make certain that Beth knew who was better, richer, and more talented. However, talent wasn't exactly something Laurel possessed and she resorted to money for most of the objects she wanted, but she couldn't buy talent could she? No, instead she'd tried to squash those she saw as a threat.

"I sent an owl if you couldn't tell by me leaving the tower," Beth informed her.

"I could tell," Laurel snorted indignantly, nostrils flaring as Beth pointed out the obvious. "Sending them to your Muggles? Inferior creatures that they are… are you certain they can even understand what you've written?"

"Clearly you've never talked to a Muggle or else you'd know they're just like us… Although I'd dare say that a good number of them are more clever than you, even without magic," Beth retorted, attempting to go around Laurel so she could continue her ascent to Hogwarts.

But Laurel stepped in front of her, lip curling at the insult that Bethany had thrown at her as easy as a monkey flung dung. "I'm disgusted that people like _you _have magic."

"Ah, likewise… Wow, strange how we both can agree on something for once-"

"Stop belittling me you stupid badger!" she snarled, grabbing hold of Beth's arms.

Startled, Beth tried to wring her hands away, but discovered that Laurel was stronger than her. "What are you doing?" her voice hitched nervously and she heard a twig snap behind her.

"_Densaugeo_!"

The spell hit Beth square on the back and Danicia prowled into view. Laurel had never been alone, she'd only distracted Beth so that her friend could get behind her. From her face, she could feel a numbing pain and when she glanced down, she was absolutely horrified to find that her front teeth had grown and grown until they resembled two extremely long tusks, nearly to her waist.

"There, that's better now isn't it?" Laurel released Beth so that she could reach up and feel the tusks in horror.

She tried to think of a spell, any spell to use on her, but knew that at this moment it would be pointless. Who knew how badly her diction would be with the two tusks in her mouth and so Beth thrust her way past the two laughing Slytherins and began striding back toward the castle, intent on going straight for the Hospital Wing.

Inside of the Hospital Wing, there were a few other students of assorted years that had been unfortunate subjects to a mishap in class or similar jinxes like Beth. Madam Pomfrey, the matron, lifted her head at the noise of a new student being admitted. She was kind in appearance, her eyes soft and blue as she gazed intently on Beth and recognized the issue at once.

"Sit down, sit down," but there was a strictness in her voice despite the sweet face she had.

Beth listened, sitting by the nearest bed, careful not to bang her entirely too large front teeth on the chair as she let them sit between her legs. After finishing her work on a boy that had been attacked by some sort of plant in one of the greenhouses, she drew her want and started toward Beth, picking up a mirror along the way.

"Take this and hold it up. I'm going to shrink your teeth back down and I'll need you to let me know when they look just right," Madam Pomfrey placed the cold handle of the silver mirror in her palm. A soft incantation brushed her lips and the enormous teeth began shrinking.

It was slow work, but her teeth were returned to normal size and Beth let a slight grunt notify Madam Pomfrey that she could stop. She was expecting Madam Pomfrey to ask how it had happened, but instead she simply returned her wand to her robes and gave Bethany a smile.

"Your teeth will be a bit sore from growing and shrinking, but I advise you go and get yourself some ice cream. Being a Hufflepuff that shouldn't be too difficult?"

Beth only had to stay a moment longer to fill out a sheet for Madam Pomfrey about her injury and who she was so that all maladies could be kept on record. Just as she was beginning to depart she could feel the aching that Madam Pomfrey had mentioned and it wasn't just her front teeth that ached. Trundling back into the main castle, Beth went down a flight of stairs and passed the barrel maze that led to the entrance of Hufflepuff and found the kitchens.

Beth wasn't much of a midnight snacker and so she hadn't partaken in any of the midnight raids of the kitchen that many Hufflepuffs adored. With the entrance to the kitchen right in front of her, she wondered how many chefs would be on the other side of the door, raising her hand to knock sternly. She'd not seen any of the chefs yet, even after a month at being at Hogwarts.

The door creaked open and Beth jumped back a little, startled to see a very small figure in front of her. A fleshy creature with large, batty ears was looking up at her with round and curious eyes. Each eye was probably the size of a saucer and these were a vibrant blue that reminded her of her brother's eyes, even if they were considerably larger. The creature shuffled with its rag and said, "Are you be wanting something miss?" the voice was high and feminine, kind and courteous.

"I-ice cream. For my teeth," Beth stammered.

"Ooh, yes we have many flavors. Follow me miss, I can show you so you can pick," the being was probably no taller than a toddler, with thin arms and legs. She was reminded of early cartoons where Mickey Mouse had tube arms and legs.

Beth was allowed into the kitchen which was overrun with similar looking creatures. Each with their enormous ears, some folded, some standing straight up, others bent. They paid her heed, watching as she trailed after the one that had greeted her and gave her small subservient bows.

"Miss here we are. We have pumpkin, mint, vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, and butterscotch it looks like," the female creature said, gesturing to the tubs of ice cream that had been floated out from the freezer for her to inspect.

"Uh, mint is just fine," Beth said politely. "Please," she added hastily, remembering her manners.

With a snap of her fingers, the other tubs were sent sailing smoothly toward the freezer and the one that Beth had chosen plopped onto the ground. A bowl and ice cream scoop were magiced into being and she filled the bowl generously for beth, smiling in earnest as she handed it over. "Oh yes," she gasped before summoning a spoon as well. "Would you like any pastries or drinks too, miss?"

"Oh no, I'm glad enough you gave me ice cream," Beth told her, turning around to make her way back toward the exit. But when she turned she found that more small creatures had surrounded her, their arms laden with trays and food.

"We have some dinner here too?"

"Soup?"

"Pumpkin juice?"

Beth no longer wondered why some of the older Hufflepuffs were packing on weight as she stepped between them. "I'm all set, thank you," she squeaked, rapidly making her way for the door before they could close in on her again. "Thanks!" she said before exiting and shutting the door quickly behind her.

Beth trailed back toward the barrels and found the Hufflepuff common room. Being afternoon, a plethora of students were sitting in the basement, playing exploding snap and wizard's chess, others reading books, and some working on homework. The majority of her peers seemed to be elsewhere in the castle and Beth was able to find a warm squishy chair to collapse in right in front of the hearth where she kicked her feet up and tried to eat her ice cream before it melted from the heat of the flames.

"Beth!" her moment to relax was shattered quickly by Ford sputtering from around the corner and looking her over. "Is it true?"

"Is what true?" she asked him, rolling her eyes as she set them back on the round fireplace and sucked on the cold ice cream spoon.

"You got them fixed then? Your teeth?"

"Yeah, Danicia hexed me while Laurel held me in place. Madam Pomfrey was able to fix it pretty quickly," Beth informed him without being bothered by it too much. She'd sort of been expecting their attempt at revenge after the whole diary fiasco. Oddly enough, Beth didn't really feel as if getting back at them would grant her any satisfaction. She didn't strike because she'd been wronged, she did it for others.

"And that's it?" Ford sounded disappointed as he sunk into a chair across from her.

"No lasting harm done," Beth shrugged, her mind preoccupied by what she had just seen. "What are those creatures that cook for us in the kitchen?"

"The house elves?" Ford inquired.

"Is that what they are?" Beth mused, wondering how she had not crossed any until this moment. "Are they related to Goblins?"

"No... I don't believe so. They're nothing special. Some old or rich wizarding families have them at their homes to clean and cook."

"Oh, they're like butlers or servants then... The ones at Hogwarts must get paid really well. They cook exceptional food every night," Beth considered, met with a chuckle from Ford.

"House elves don't get paid," he said as if it were blatantly obvious. "They serve whoever their master is without question. In this case I would say anyone has Hogwarts has sway over the elves."

Beth's spoon had frozen in midair and she frowned, glancing down at the ice cream that was half melted by now. "So they're slaves?" she asked quietly.

"In a manner of speaking, yes," he was nonplussed by this.

"For all of the posturing the wizarding world does thinking they're so high and mighty, they still have slaves?" Beth scoffed, setting her bowl down as she frowned deeply at it. "Muggles ended slavery a century ago."

"Well elves aren't human are they? The slavery Muggles had was of other Muggles, not house elves. They were made to serve and they do so happily," Ford's voice was becoming quieter and his discomfort was obvious.

The elves in the kitchen had certainly seemed happy and kind. "I just don't like the idea of it," Beth huffed finally, picking her icecream back up and slurping it down as it had melted to form a pale green soup.

"The wizarding world isn't perfect... but I don't think we have much to worry about when it comes to elves."

"If you say so."

* * *

The Halloween feast would be that evening and there was a buzz in the air that only the holiday could bring. Around them, the ghosts were flying high above the students murmuring about their party they were going to have with their fellow undead. However, classes were not cancelled simply because it was Halloween and various professors were making their points that this would not be a lackadaisical day by creating tests and exams. Double period with Flitwick hadn't been too difficult and they had been spared the pop quiz that students endured in Herbology.

The luck of the Hufflepuffs had all but run out after lunch and Snape prowled like a shark circling prey as he started the class with, "Open your books to page 46. There you will find the Wiggenweld Potion which we have been reviewing for the past week. Collect your supplies and begin brewing your potions. The results of your brew count as a test."

Everyone around Beth was horrified as Snape took his seat and neatly interlaced his fingers as students took a moment to begin moving. Thus far they hadn't touched the Wiggenweld Potion in class aside from taking notes. Snape's definition of 'a week' had only been three classes of reviewing the benefits and a lengthy paper that had also gone in tandem.

Bethany wasn't worried, seeing that she'd already successfully brewed the Wiggenweld a couple of weeks ago. Waiting in line patiently, she collected the long list of supplies and plopped back down in her seat, opening her book and glancing over into the margins where she had gone back multiple times and made addendums.

Around her, students were struggling with the amount of salamander blood that needed to be added, carefully testing their brew with each drop. Beth moved with a cool, relaxed air as her potion changed to the proper colors and she moved onto the lionfish spines with ease. A pin could be heard dropping in the dungeon classroom. They'd already learned what would happen if hushed whispers about potions were given during a test.

Beth was sitting in her seat, counting the 30 minutes down as other students were just beginning to move away from the salamander blood. Her eyes scanned the room and there were mixed results. A good number of Ravenclaws had managed to get their Wiggenweld Potions to the correct color before adding their lionfish spines. However, on the other end of the spectrum there were quite a few Hufflepuffs who were struggling.

Tierra was bent over her steaming concoction which was billowing with purple smoke, an effect that Beth was bewildered by. The faint smell of wolfsbane told her that Tierra had added one of the final ingredients much too early, be it by accident or to try and shorten the time it took to create the Wiggenweld Potion.

Acklerly's potion was even worse, his face shining with sweat as he craned over his cauldron, little droplets of his sweat contaminating the concoction. Beth winced as he added an extra lionfish spine, each of which were whole. It was easy to do so given how fine and spindly they were, but the potion began smelling rancid.

Beth turned the heat off for her potion and let it cool. Some students seemed to believe that fresh flobberworm mucus would make a difference and perhaps salvage the mess that they had made. Eyes had been going around the room and it had been decided, after one Ravenclaw had squeezed the green slimed out, that using live flobberworms was definitely the way to go. This caused an excess of oozing mucus to be added to their potions, there was no method or control and Beth could only cringe, her eyes sliding up to Snape to see if he was going to try and stop any of the students.

Instead, he watched with a strange and oddly creepy delight and satisfaction. Professor Snape often ranted about how control and precision were the most important parts of potion making. Unless you knew what you were doing, it was best not to rush the blending of materials. But given how intricate the potion was and the amount of time they were allotted for class, students were rushing to get the materials into their cauldrons so that they could simmer it for 30 minutes.

A spluttering cough came from beside her and she saw that a desk over, Gerry's face was covered in dark soot.

Everyone only became more nervous when Snape said, "Five more minutes."

Beth tested the temperature of her potion and decided to wait a few more moments as she watched a few students turn off their burners, some not getting nearly enough time to simmer to full maturation. Swallowing hard, she returned to ladle her potion out and corked the bright green potion before heading over to present it to Professor Snape.

He glanced over at her, eyeing the vial that glinted like liquid envy. Accepting it from Beth he picked up his quill and marked something on a piece of parchment. "Fine work, Miss. Hiddleston, as always," his words might have been supportive, but his tone was sneering and somewhat irritated.

Beth didn't think much of it. He might not have been fond of Hufflepuffs, but if a student had talent for Potions, he couldn't deny or hide it. "Thank you sir," she said graciously before flouncing back to her cauldron to empty it. She was thrown a few dirty glares from the surrounding students in blue dashed robes, but she ignored them, high on the satisfaction that practice made perfect. She snapped her book shut and slipped it into her bag, packing up for the day as her peers began lining up to present Snape with their work.

When the bell chimed, Beth didn't even wait for Ford or Cayenne, who were still stuck in line waiting for their work to be graded. They knew that she would always ditch them for the most preferential seat in Transfiguration. She stepped as quickly as her short legs would allow, her golden hair whipping behind her as she trotted without breaking out into a jog or a run.

Beth wasn't the first to arrive in class, seeing that the Gryffindors had been much closer to the classroom, however Bill had saved her a seat beside him in the front of the class. She threw the strap of her backpack over the edge of the chair and hastily removed her notes, brimming with excitement and beaming up at the empty desk where McGonagall stood in front of to teach.

Her fingers quivered slightly with anticipation as she slid a roll of parchment in front of her, having planned to give it to Professor McGonagall for a few days now. Bill glanced over at her, "How did Potions go?"

"Well, for me at least. Everyone else was trying to rush their potion making and made a lot of mistakes," Beth informed him as more Hufflepuffs were beginning to trail in behind her, dejected and exhausted from the stressful Potions class.

"One class is barely enough time to brew a Wiggenweld Potion if it's your first time," Bill reminded her.

"You don't have Potions until Monday, right?" Beth asked.

"Yes... more time for Professor Snape to brew over the weekend and consider how to punish us. I doubt he'll give us the entire double period for the Wiggenweld Potion," Bill sighed wistfully.

"He'll probably follow it up with a paper," she said thoughtfully, glancing toward the door as Professor McGonagall strode in and shut it behind her. No tardy students were allowed to enter unless they had a slip with an excuse from a professor.

A hush consumed the classroom filled with Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, watching as the tall and thin witch brought herself to the front of the room. There was something... brighter about McGonagall. Her face wasn't as pensive or drawn as it usually was and she beamed at the students. This expression on her face relaxed the students, as if they wouldn't have to worry about a test.

McGonagall went to her desk and picked up a small wooden box and the excitement of the students withered away (aside from Beth of course). "Today we will be transfiguring matches to needles. You have been working on it for a couple of weeks now and this attempt will be graded," she declared, beginning to go around the classroom, depositing a match in front of each student.

Sighs were stifled as the professor swept by, her emerald robes shimmering in the light of the classroom. Once she had finished passing them out she motioned for them to begin.

Beth drew her wand and gazing expectantly up at McGonagall, converted her match into a shiny golden needle. She lifted the item into the air, the light glinting off the warm metal, and she heard the irritated hisses of her classmates behind her.

"Oh! Ms. Hiddleston, you've already done it. That'll be 20 points to Hufflepuff. I expect you've been practicing on your own time?" McGonagall came over to the table and plucked the needle from Beth, beaming down at her. "Excellent. Excellent indeed, you even made it gold. Now, if you wouldn't mind, you can go around the classroom and help your peers in their endeavors."

Now, these words were truly astonishing. McGonagall didn't typically allow help during examinations, but to get help from the best student in the class was certainly relieving as McGonagall stepped up onto the plinth where her desk sat and took a seat.

Beth turned to Bill first, whose match was nearly there. The redhead had vanished, but the eye of the needle hadn't quite formed. "Think of your wand power, you're pulling back, hesitating as if too much will ruin it," Beth observed, much to Bill's chagrin. Under her scrutiny he flushed a little bit, either from nerves or fury could not be said. However, after her words, Bill was also successful. He released the breath he had been holding and brought it up to McGonagall as Beth stood up to go help other students.

Her Hufflepuff peers appreciated her criticism much more than the Gryffindors. A girl named Emily Tyler gave her a haughty glare when told she wasn't concentrating properly. All transfiguration was based on a formula and if the basics were not right, the foundation of their magic might change the match slightly, but not completely. The overall effect in the classroom was that a few more students were successful, but the majority had not achieved a full transformation.

McGonagall seemed to be expecting as much. Beth hung back, waiting for her peers to go and hand in their work before skulking out of the room, finally released from classes on Halloween. When the last Gryffindor had stepped out, Beth clutched her roll of parchment close to her heart and stepped up onto the dias and cleared her throat loud enough for McGonagall to hear.

"Professor..." Beth entreated, watching for her to raise her head.

McGonagall continued to grade the last of the work before she looked up, her spectacles glinting in the light of the candle beside her. "Ms. Hiddleston, what can I assist you with?"

"Professor I just wanted to ask you about something... I feel... I feel like I'm being held back in these classes," Beth expressed honestly.

"What do you mean by 'held back'?" the clear and sharp McGonagall had returned for a brief moment.

"I mean that all of this magic is too easy for me. I spent the latter half of my summer studying advanced Transfiguration theory and since I've gotten to Hogwarts I've been testing it out. I've spent my time in the library, reading every book I could find on Transfiguration that is readily available to students and still..." she trailed off and stared at the golden needle that was set apart from the silver and iron that had also managed to manifest.

McGonagall considered her for a long moment and then placed her quill in her inkwell. "I remember when I visited your house. Your brother said the first magic he'd really noticed you performed was turning a dandelion into a finch as a young girl... I thought about it long and hard, as it can be difficult for many students in Hogwarts to turn an inanimate object into something alive. It's much easier to turn an animal into an object, since you can convert the life... Third years begin working on this magic and they have enough issues trying to turn a teapot into a tortoise," she huffed, shaking her head at the idea.

"I had a feeling that you had a natural talent for Transfiguration given that example your brother gave, but-" Beth's heart sank as McGonagall came to a clause. "-there is still a lot for you to learn. You might outperform your peers in every exercise, but I assure you that there isn't a need for you to be progressed ahead of them."

Beth had a feeling that the conversation would go this way and so she fumbled for the roll of parchment that she had written upon. "Professor wait," she finally got a hold of it, her palms sweaty and her nerves threatening to overwhelm her as she stood so close to her idol. "I-I wrote this. I just want you to read it before you make a final decision. You don't have to tell me now, but it's some theories I had in the summer that I've now applied over the past two months."

McGonagall blinked apprehensively and accepted the roll. "Miss. Hiddleston I cannot promise you anything, especially given how young you are. There is much you have to learn yet."

"I know," Beth said with a shaky smile. "But Transfiguration is my favorite and I really do think that I'd do better in a different class."

Taking this as her dismissal, she turned around and left the classroom, her heart pounding so loud that she thought it was going to explode from her chest. The further she got from the classroom the more her anxiety peaked. Had she made certain there were no mistakes in her paper? What if McGonagall thought her writing was childish and looked at her differently because of Beth's request to be in a more difficult class?

"Beth!" Bill had materialized, but he hadn't been waiting for her outside the classroom. He was walking rapidly as if he'd come from the Great Hall.

Beth cocked her head at him, observing that his coppery hair was a bit of a mess and that he was frowning. Part of her thought it had to do with the class they'd just had. "Yes?"

"You're not on the Quidditch team!"

"Ah," she breathed, relieved that's all this was about. "Yes, I declined the position. I don't have time to be on the team... Or the money in that fact."

"But you were chosen to be on the team in your first year," Bill said emphatically, as if Beth didn't understand how rare this was.

"In a manner that wasn't very befitting. I didn't try-out and I don't want the spot. Did you try out?" she countered, trying to explain herself, but noticing Bill's frown was deep.

"No I didn't-"

"And why not?"

"I'm a first year for starters and when do I have time?"

"Precisely," she rested her case and Bill's face slackened. "School is only going to get harder and progressively more difficult. I'll need to study more."

"I... I was just excited you got on the team," he deflated and now sounded apologetic. "I was excited to write my mom about it, that you'd made the team."

"Technically I did, but I don't want the position," Beth reminded him as they started down the hall. "How is your mother doing by the way? Last you told me she's been having issues with Fred and George picking on Percy... which sounds rather comical given how small they were when I saw them last."

"Oi, Beth!" Ford was tramping down the hall with Cayenne in tow, barely glancing over at Bill. "Cayenne and I were just going to go for a walk on the grounds before the feast tonight. Care to join us?"

"Sure," some cool air would do her head well. "Bill?"

"Uh... yeah why not," Bill shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets before the four of them headed down the hall and out through the front of the school.

* * *

The Halloween Feast was every ounce as exciting and exuberant as the older students had described. There were pumpkins so large they could fit three men inside of them. Replacing the floating candles had been hundreds of jack-o-lanterns, and there was even festive orange and black ribbons adorning the hall. While the food was spectacular as always, the dessert was where the house elves went overboard. Candy decorated the table; cauldron cakes, licorice wands, pumpkin pasties, lollipops, Bertie Bott's, and more. Just this one evening would induce many students into a sugar coma.

Students were still recovering from their candy divulging, even on Sunday as Beth had stolen the Daily Prophet from Ford, who was resting with his head on the table, groaning from an upset stomach. "If you'd just chew on some ginger, I'm sure your stomach would feel better," Cayenne assured him, though he barely wanted to listen through his bleating. Ford basked in making it seem as if the world was against him and would milk any moment he was victimized or didn't feel well.

An owl swooped overhead... Ser Gibbleworth had a rolled up magazine clutched in his talons as he sailed into the Great Hall. Beth was a bit taken aback and even more so when a copy of Transfiguration Today was deposited in front of her. She wondered if her mother had purchased a copy, knowing how fond that Beth was of Transfiguration since she talked about it in all of her letters obsessively.

But as she picked it up she opened it and held her heart stop. The prime article of the paper was labeled as 'Hogwarts Student's Brilliant Dissertation on 'Live Transfiguration and Understanding the Unfathomable'. Cayenne noticed the blank and astonished look on her face.

"What is it, Beth?"

"M-m-my paper I wrote, it's being highlighted in Transfiguration Today. It's the key article," Beth blubbered, turning the opening page around so that she could show Cayenne.

Ford's head shot up and he quit his bellyaching. "Your paper? Are you certain it's not that of an older student?" he took the magazine from her and flipped through it, beginning to read the thesis that Beth had written over the past two months. "Blimey this is your writing Beth!"

Beth felt faint, the world unfocusing in front of her. Was this a dream? "I-I-I-" she stammered, heat creeping up her neck and to her ears. "I think I need some fresh air," she stood up quickly and was overwhelmed immediately. She swayed and crumpled to the ground.

Beth came to a few minutes later. She was being sat up by Ford and resting against the table bench. Cayenne had come around and was fanning her with the magazine, trying to cool her down.

"Beth? Beth can you hear me?" Ford was saying, snapping in front of her as he tried to garner her attention.

"Uh... yes..." Beth replied lethargically. "What..."

"You passed out, Miss. Hiddleston. Here, please have some water," Professor McGonagall was also there, bringing down a goblet filled with water for her to drink from.

Beth brought it to her clammy lips and drank deeply before bringing it back down, embarrassed that she had been so flustered by the fact that she'd gotten into Transfiguration Today that she'd fainted.

"Do you think you need to go to the Hospital Wing?" McGonagall asked her.

"Uhm... no, I think I'll be alright," Beth assured her as she tried to get to her feet, only to find that they were jelly still.

"Just relax for a little bit and drink your water," the professor instructed, filling the chalice with more liquid as she pointed her wand at it. "Mr. Gosling do you know what might have caused your friend to faint?"

"Er..." Ford would have known well enough. "Maybe dehydrated?"

"It happened after she read this paper," Cayenne chirped ignorantly, picking up the copy of Transfiguration Today that sat on the table. "Her paper was featured in it... Although I don't really understand what I read."

Professor McGonagall's lips twitched slightly in amusement, but she was not overcome by a full smile. "I am aware. I thought you'd like a copy of your published work Miss. Hiddleston."

"I... I didn't think it was that good," Beth told her in a low voice, her self doubt surfacing again like a dormant parasite waking.

"It needs a bit more refining, but the fact that you've got this depth of knowledge as a first year is rather commendable. The editor of Transfiguration Today also thought so and would love if you kept writing them with new ideas," she told Beth. "Do you think you can walk again?"

Beth struggled to her feet on demand and clutched the side of the table as she drew in a few deep breaths trying to clear her head again. "I think so..."

"Then let's take a walk," Professor McGonagall declared.

Cayenne handed Beth her Transfiguration Today magazine and stepped back as Beth followed the professor, albeit sluggishly. They exited the Great Hall and rather than staying inside, went out through the front of the school and into the chill November air, which stung at Beth's face. However, it was refreshing and filled her lungs with its chill fragrance, hinting of a rain that was soon to come.

"I must admit Hiddleston, I really wasn't expecting that dissertation from you. I expected you to be an exceptional student and seen it, but not of the caliber you have demonstrated by your critical thinking and curiosity. You display similar traits in Potions I hear... though not as fixated as Transfiguration," McGonagall began. Beth wrapped her robes closer to her, the wind beginning to bite through it. "I will take you on for additional lessons, twice a week. I heard that you declined the position you were offered for the Quidditch team."

Beth nodded slowly. "I... It would have been fun, but I don't have enough time. Academics are more important to me and if I'm practicing Quidditch, I won't have time to keep researching and experimenting," she explained, elated that McGonagall was going to give her more advanced lessons.

"As for your classes... I know they will seem a bit basic and dull to you, but I advise that you continue to help your classmates. Unfortunately I cannot simply skip you ahead to more difficult classes as is done in Muggle schools, but I can teach you after hours," McGonagall informed her firmly.

"That... that would be amazing!" Beth exclaimed, unable to control the volume of her voice as her excitement peeked through. "Can you teach me to become an Animagus like yourself?"

Professor McGonagall smiled wryly at Beth's ambitions and excitement. "Perhaps down the road... If you continue to perform as well as you have thus far."

"I will. I swear I will," Beth promised her.

And Beth was not wrong because Transfiguration was by far her best subject. It was almost as if she had been placed on this very planet to study and understand the intricacies of the formulas and conjuration. Her lessons with Professor McGonagall were held twice a week, which by her 3rd year, became three times a week; Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Beth's admiration for McGonagall only grew with each passing day and she learned that Minerva had followed a similar path as she, pestering Dumbledore for extra lessons in his class until he conceded in her later years at Hogwarts.

However, Professor McGonagall thought that if she began shaping Beth very early, that she would surpass the knowledge that she'd had by the year she was to take her O.W.L.s. Perhaps their friendship as a teacher and student was more than that, as they would often discuss intricate theories and equations as if they were equals. While Minerva loved to teach, it had been a long time since she'd been able to discuss advanced Transfiguration with someone who had a similar wealth of knowledge.

"And you've truly finished it? A full moon's cycle without forgetting?" McGonagall asked, circling Beth like a predator in the classroom. The windows outside were inky with nightfall and with Halloween of 1986 just passed a few days before, the weekend was nearly upon them.

"Yes, professor," Beth said respectfully. During the years she had grown in height and as her 16th birthday approached rapidly in December, Beth had changed from the doleful but intelligent 11 year old, to a young woman. She was tall, perhaps taller than she would have preferred, and wore a yellow Prefect badge on her chest. Not much had changed about her other than her height and loss of baby fat.

Her cheeks were high, her face heart shaped, and her hair still long and golden.

"Demonstrate then, that is the only proof that you have finally accomplished it," Professor McGonagall challenged.

Beth had tried five times by now, twice last year, once over the summer, and once at the beginning of the school year and she had failed. This was her 5th attempt and she had been successful, though the task had been arduous and tiresome. Sure, Beth understood the magic behind it but being so keen and punctual with all the parameters that made an Animagus were what challenged her.

Beth was no more. The teenager was replaced by a large feline, lanky legs stretching out. Her obsidian fur rippled in the candle light, catching the black spots that flecked her pelt. She raised her head to glanced up at McGonagall, beaming as she could in this form, her whiskers twitching.

"A black jaguar?" Professor McGonagall broke the silence and stepped toward her student, a hand outstretched to touch the short fur of the large cat. She drew her hand back and then smiled at Bethany Hiddleston. "You've done it... You really have," she seemed to be mild disbelief of the outcome as if she had expected this task to continue to stump Beth.

Bethany reverted back to human, the smile more prevalent on her human face. "I was a bit taken aback myself. I had been expecting... I don't know, something a bit smaller or more natural to these areas."

"You had been hoping," McGonagall corrected as she went round her desk and began writing rapidly. "A jaguar, black or golden, is certainly very recognizable in these parts, but have you considered what you're going to do after school? You'll have to think about this, soon O.W.L.s. will be coming up."

"I never really thought about it... though I suppose somewhere in Africa's Sahara would make the most sense," she jested.

"You could become a Curse-Breaker," McGonagall suggested.

Beth's thoughts were turned to her current Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Professor Rakepick was exceptional and wild, her talent seemingly knew no bounds, and for once since Beth had been there, she was actually excited to learn in Defence. However, the air of arrogance that sat on the woman's shoulders was the only thing that deterred Bethany, even if Bill was suddenly more enthralled with the occupation he had been considering for some time.

"No..." she said finally, still elated from her most recent conquering. "I've never really been one for adventure... Not that I'd turn it down, but I think I'd rather help people... And I'm too young to become a professor."

"There's always becoming a Healer. Your marks are excellent in Potions too and I know that Gringotts often employs Healers to go on long expeditions with their Curse-Breakers."

Becoming a Healer sounded more along the lines of what Beth wanted to do, but still it wasn't enough. "Maybe, but I don't want to go treasure hunting. I want to help people... Maybe they've got an infestation of Red Caps or... Some kind of issue with Kappas," she thought of her knowledge in Magical Creatures. She enjoyed working with animals, even felt a bond with them. If there was just a way that she could do multiple jobs...

"Healers can find a variety of jobs, unless you'd like to become a Magizoologist."

"No... but I've still got plenty of time to decide," Beth drawled.

"Time creeps up on you faster than you think," Professor McGonagall warned her, but Beth certainly couldn't take her seriously just yet. She was barely even 16 years old. "Now, I'm going to send to the Ministry about having you registered. They'll send a photographer to document your Animagus form before putting you on the registry."

"Very well," Beth nodded. "What can I begin working on?"

"Take this note to Madam Pince and have her retrieve _Transfiguration Compendium_ from the Restricted Section. I want you to read through it this weekend before our lesson on Monday," McGonagall handed her a piece of parchment with the book's name and author along with her approval that Beth could read it in the library.

"Thank you professor. You have a good evening," Beth bid as she started for the door.

"You too Bethany... And congratulations. There are few Animagus in Britain and you've joined that prestigious clan."

Beaming head to toe, Beth stepped out of the classroom and let out a long yawn. Over the years Hogwarts remained unchanged aside from the faces that walked through the halls. Part of her wanted to go to bed, but she'd promised to go to the library to meet Bill after her lesson with McGonagall.

She made her way up to the library, which was still open for another hour. Madam Pince was lurking through the bookcases, her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized Beth, a notorious book defiler (though they were always her own books). Pince would often follow Beth around to make certain that she wasn't making notes inside the library books.

Beth found William Weasley in the same corner they'd habited over the years. He had only become more impressive, growing in height and handsomeness. He was superb in every subject, whereas Beth was only truly exceptional in one... maybe two if Potions could also be considered. A prodigy, he managed to take twelve classes and make it look easy. Beth had little interest in Divination (especially with McGonagall's suggestion not to bother with it) and Muggle Studies. Thus she'd opted for Arithmancy, which ran at the same time as Magical Creatures. Thus, like Bill, she had applied for a Time-Turner to be able to get to all of her classes in the span of the day.

How Bill never appeared tired was beyond her, because her additionally lessons with McGonagall were typically so mentally wearing that if she had five or six classes a day, she'd be nigh on passing out after her lesson. But she'd never flake on Bill, even if she'd forgotten that she had Ancient Runes to go back in time to attend. She had only taken it because she had been given a Time-Turner and it seemed a waste not to go with it.

"Working on Runes homework?" she observed as she collapsed in the chair across from him. She picked up her bag and searched for the homework. "Did Babbling assign us something?" Her forgetfulness was only amplified by how tired she was and these days, Beth was always exhausted, especially seeing that they were going to have O.W.L.s. at the end of the year.

"Just some translations," Bill told her with a smile.

Beth glanced at the parchment full of runes and groaned at the length of them. Professor Babbling was trying to get them ready for the O.W.L.s. that would require a length translation. "I should I dropped this class," Beth groaned as she drew out her_ Spellman's Syllabary_ and began flipping through it as she tried to recall which runes corresponded with what words.

"Oh it's not that bad," Bill assured her lightly, eyes twinkling with amusement as Beth glared at her paper with heavy lidded eyes.

"You only say that because you're better than me at Runes. If this were Transfiguration homework-"

"I'd be beat," Bill admitted his defeat lightheartedly. "Not everyone can be a Transfiguration prodigy."

"You're good at everything Bill, I don't want to hear it. I feel like I'm falling behind in Runes and Arithmancy," she sighed, running her fingers into her hair and underneath her headband.

"Maybe you should ask McGonagall to free up some of your evenings. You don't look like you're getting enough sleep..."

"How are you getting enough sleep?" Beth asked him, as he was taking two more classes than she was.

"I just use the turner... You know when it's time to wake up, twist it back a few hours and then go back to sleep so you get more shut eye in. I mean, you have to move if you want to be successful and not run into your other self, but I've set up a second bed underneath mine that works well enough. With the proper protective spells, no one can see me getting the second half of my beauty rest."

Beth's jaw fell open. She hadn't even thought about using the Time-Turner to get more sleep. She had only been using it for classes after all these years and now she was beginning to feel the strain of just four to five hours a night. "That's brilliant Bill!"

Her voice drew the attention of Madam Pince who came flapping down the aisle like a great vulture. Beth turned her eyes back onto her homework and Pince lurked away.

"I'll have to do that. I really need more sleep," Beth said, appreciating his little trick for doubling the amount of time he had to sleep. "Do you start or end on your bed?"

"I start sleeping underneath. Since I study so late everyone else is usually in bed. When they all get up I turn back time and get into my bed at that point," he explained and how queer the thought of two Bill Weasleys sleeping in a row was.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

* * *

The beginning of November was in full swing and the upcoming weekend was to have a Hogsmeade visit. Taking Bill's suggestion to use her Time-Turner to sleep, Beth found that she was getting a lot more rest than previously. However, that only somewhat helped her with her workload. While she did well in all of her classes, Beth had a habit of focusing on the subjects that she enjoyed best rather than delegating her time where it might be needed elsewhere. Ancient Runes was a good example and she was beginning to get annoyed with the copious amount of homework when she'd rather be reading what McGonagall had given her.

"Oh. My. God," Ford plopped himself down at the Hufflepuff table for lunch. A few younger students glanced at his declaration, though Nymphadora Tonks, a 3rd year simply snorted in amusement, the Prefect badge flashing on Ford's chest. "Did you hear?" he still wasn't very good at keeping his voice down when he had juicy details or gossip.

"I don't hear much anymore," Beth admitted, rubbing her eyes slightly as she tried to focus them on her best friend.

"I think there's going to be a school dance," Ford declared, glancing expectantly at the other students to gauge their excitement. Penny Haywood, a blonde girl in the same year as Tonks, leaned forward.

"_Really_? What makes you think so?" Penny asked him.

"I overheard Professor Sprout talking about it to Flitwick," Ford noted smugly.

"So... it's just a rumor then," Beth drawled, deflating Ford's excitement for a brief moment.

"No, it's going to happen!" Ford insisted, narrowing his eyes at her before he tried to build the others back up. "Just wait, they're going to announce it. And why not? They usually have some sort of formal dance once every 7 years. Lucky us it didn't happen during our earlier years."

"Yeah... I feel as if the 3rd year is probably the youngest I'd want to be to have a ball happen," Cayenne agreed, glancing at the 3rd years who were sitting with them; Penny Haywood, Nymphadora Tonks...

"Well, if there is a dance, do you want to go with me Ford?" Tonks asked him, arching a devilishly pink brow at him. Ever since her arrival at Hogwarts, she'd done everything she could to get under his skin and get on his nerves. Now that he was Prefect she made certain that she broke the rules in front of him at least once a day to see how far she could push him.

Ford's nostrils flared. "Honey, I wouldn't be caught dead with you," he told her harshly, but Tonks seemed to expect this kind of answer.

"Well I hate to break up dance talk, but we've got to get to double Defence and I suggest you get to your classes too," Beth glanced at Penny and Dora before rising from her seat, shaking her sleeve so that it covered her watch again.

But Beth wasn't necessarily being pessimistic, the idea of the dance actually made her excited and nervous. Would Bill ask her to the dance? On the other hand she had to worry about being able to afford a dress. She didn't want to get her hopes up only to learn that Ford had misheard.

The three made their way toward their Defence class, which over the years had had its ups and downs. For some reason, no professor had managed to stay at the job for more than a year. Their current professor, Rakepick, was determined to beat whatever curse laid on the position. If anyone were capable of such a feat, it would certainly be her. Even if Beth didn't approve of her attitude and arrogance, she could appreciate that Rakepick was the best professor they'd had yet and they were learning more than they ever had in the past.

Bethany's talent in Defence wasn't to be readily compared to that of Transfiguration. With years of bad teaching, she was just as well off as the other students... Aside from Bill who had been learning extra spells and duelling tactics outside of class.

Upon entering the classroom, Beth's eyes went straight for the cages filled with dark leathery creatures. Their blood red eyes glared through the bars and some hissed, disturbed by the entrance of the students: Vampire Bats. Not to be mistaken with the simple animal Muggles knew about, these Vampire Bats were from Romania and were used by vampires to extract blood from hosts in place of themselves. They were greedy little beady eyed beings and foul tempered. They never travelled alone and were usually in enormous murders where, they would suck whoever was unfortunate enough to cross them, within seconds.

Finding her usual seat next to Bill, she kept her eyes on the cages, wondering why a creature that didn't dwell in Britain was put before them. Professor Rakepick had a taste for the exotic and rather than teach them about the native dark creatures, she preferred to bring a queer arrangement of exotic ones that they were likely to never encounter.

The bell chimed, indicating that class had begun, and Professor Rakepick swept from out of her office with firm bravado. From her Curse-Breaker robes to her hair parted to the side, there was a wry smile twisting the corners of her lips up to form a cocky smirk as she glanced over her students.

"Today I shall be testing your ability to combat the creatures we have been studying," Professor Rakepick started, pacing the class so that she was able to peer at all of them. "There will be two lines, so 2 combatants at a time. You can use the spells I've taught you to defend or surprise me with another method of stopping them. Whatever keeps them from getting at you will be deserving of a good grade. It's not always about following the books, it's about yielding results, coming out alive in the end."

Beth rolled her eyes, having heard this kind of gibberish for two months now. Of course it was important to have a method that worked best and to apply that rather than making it up as you go. Giving the students free leash to do as they pleased was going to spell disaster. She knew that some students would try to be flashy and then forget what to do when their first attempt failed.

"Up you go, two lines now!" Professor Rakepick declared, motioning for them to get up and gestured to the spots in the front of the class where she wanted the lines to form.

The proper way to disengage a rabid pack of Vampire Bats would be to replicate what they did not like, which was fire and bright light. A properly cast Lumos Maxima would stun and blind them, though this was one of the more difficult incantations and would also blind the entire classroom. On the other hand fire was also just as handy and they had learned the Fire-Making Spell back in their 1st year, this appeared to be the class favorite method of controlling the bats.

Students went up, directing their wands at the Vampire Bats before they were released. Rakepick had a gradebook floating beside her, recording grades independently as she had her wand drawn to stop any stray spells or bats. There were a few stray bats, which no doubt deducted points from their final grade is they missed a good chunk or them or failed to keep utter control.

A gasp of delight came from the class as one student, Emily Tyler, had such good control of her Fire-Making Spell that she was able to create a ring of fire that kept the bats in a tight bundle.

"Excellent job Ms. Tyler, excellent!" Professor Rakepick was clapping loudly, a few students suddenly joining her as Emily turned and looked rather proud of herself.

Beth had never been too fond of Emily, but ignored her, considering if there was something impressive she could do. Transfiguration would be an ill choice, too many moving targets. Nor did she want to kill the Vampire Bats since there a few more eager students behind her. Settling on an unproven method, Beth stepped up for her assault.

The bats were released from their cage, considerably more agitated than they had been before. With an elegant movement of her wand, Beth cast, "_Immobulus_!" The closeness of the bats did her well and she was able to stun them all, immobilising their movement, sending them floating around as if they were in zero gravity. She was expecting applause as well, she had been clean and concise.

"Very... applicable," Rakepick told her, clearly not impressed by this method.

Beth frowned, she had stunned all of her bats. Was it not good enough because it wasn't flashy? There was more control in freezing them all rather than trying to spray fire to stop them. Pursing her lips, she stormed back to her seat and sat down grumpily, watching the last of the students make their attempts against the bats. In her opinion, they all looked like clumsy oafs, some unable to control the fire, and yet Rakepick rewarded them for having more gall than she.

Her mood did not get better toward the end of the class as some students were allowed to try again to attempt a better grade. When it did end, Beth's temper was sour and she couldn't understand why she hadn't been praised for thinking outside of the box instead of trying to use brute force to overwhelm the Vampire Bats.

When they began exiting for the day, Beth and Bill started for the library. "Did you see how Emily was able to control the bats? It was really impressive that she had so much control over the fire to manipulate it-"

"Yeah, yeah. So cool," Beth agreed harshly, drawing a bit of a look from Bill.

"You didn't think so?"

"No... I mean yes, it was impressive," Beth straightened and tried to backtrack. "It's just I don't understand why Professor Rakepick didn't think much of my Freezing Charm. It did the job much easier than the Fire-Making Spell."

"A Freezing Charm is a lot easier to cast. A bit rudimentary," Bill pointed out.

"So? If you're running from a pack of Vampire Bats do you really think you'll have time to put a ring of fire around them? No! They'll be flying from every which direction so Lumos Maxima or the Freezing Charm would make the most sense," Beth argued.

"I guess... but this was just a test. Professor Rakepick said it could be anything."

"And my method was the most effective and easiest for even younger students to accomplish. Why we're using a more difficult to aim charm is beyond me," Beth huffed, her cheeks heating up from thinking about it.

"You probably got a good mark, why are you so upset about it?" Bill inquired as they came up on the library quickly.

"Because shouldn't Defence be about what magic can defend you in a tight spot? Whether it be easy or hard? It shouldn't be so flashy... People will get the wrong idea and those spells aren't practical in the field," she sighed, bringing forth all her qualms with Professor Rakepick's teaching strategy.

"I think... You're just jealous of how well Emily could control the fire," Bill observed, watching as Beth's face turned an even deeper shade of red.

"W-what?" she spluttered, absolutely astounded that he would suggest that she was jealous of Emily Tyler. Beth was so much more talented than she was. Perhaps not in using the Fire-Making Spell, but certainly in other fields like Transfiguration and Potions. But she didn't want to argue anymore and simply narrowed her eyes in a glare at Bill before whirling into the library like a tornado, taking a seat by herself on the farthest side of the library from where she usually sat so that Bill would only get to sit with his brothers.

"Jealous of Emily Tyler," Beth hissed under her breath, but that was it wasn't it? Bill had recognized the talent in Emily and began telling Beth about how he was impressed. It stung that Bill thought so over her clever spell. She sighed and then got up again, fetching Madam Pince so she could retrieve _Transfiguration Compendium_ to continue reading for her upcoming lesson with McGonagall.

When she returned, Beth was startled to find that there was a red haired boy sitting at her desk. However, this was not Bill trying to make amends for their small disagreement. No, it was his younger brother Charlie, two years their junior, that was sitting there, waiting for her. Beth took a seat and waited until Madam Pince had glided away.

"Your brother is sitting in the usual spot if you were looking for him Charlie," Beth whispered.

Charlie glanced up from his homework and smiled at her. "He seemed to be in a bad mood so I figured I'd sit with you instead... Leave Perc to fend for himself."

Bethany couldn't imagine Bill being mean to Percy who had just started Hogwarts this year. In fact, he had a very good amount of patience for his siblings that he seemed not to have all the time with her. "Oh... well, alright," she shrugged, opening her book to begin where she had left off.

"Are you reading that Restricted book again?" Charlie asked curiously.

"Yes, I am, want to take a look?"

"You mean Pince won't jinx me for looking at a book I wasn't assigned?" Charlie jested, pretending to quail as he glanced around for the vulture-esc witch.

"I'll keep a sharp look out," Beth promised in a militant tone as she turned it around and let Charlie flip through it.

The younger Weasley looked through it for a solid minute before pushing it back. "Yup, just as I expected... I understand none of it. Seriously, Hidds, I don't know who you comprehend any of that," Charlie blinked, shaking his head at her.

"It's one of the few things I'm good at," Beth shrugged, still feeling a bit put down from her Defence lesson.

"You're great at everything," Charlie scoffed at her. "Professor McGonagall loves you more than most of Gryffindor. And Professor Snape tolerates you... Tolerates you. That's more than can be said for most of the school."

Beth breathed a laugh, a small bit of color creeping up her face at his words. Charlie was unlike his brother. He was smart, but he didn't have the same academic prowess as Bill, nor did he fit in as the scholarly type. He'd gotten on the Quidditch Team in his second year (which was still quite a feat) and was considerably more personable in an earnest manner. He could always put a smile on her face.

"Well Rakepick doesn't like me and I'm drowning in homework. This is me working on extra stuff that's not as important as the huge amount of Ancient Runes homework I'm suppose to have translated by tomorrow afternoon," she sighed, twiddling with the page that she wanted to continue to read, but knew that it wouldn't do her any good if she started failing Ancient Runes.

"You've got your O.W.L.s. coming up too, right? Do you know what you want to be yet?"

"I... I think I'm leaning toward Healer, but I'm not certain yet."

"Well what good is Ancient Runes unless you're going to teach it or become a Curse-Breaker?" Charlie pointed out.

"I..." she didn't know, pausing to consider why she even bothered continuing Ancient Runes and Arithmancy if her passions were mostly in Transfiguration and Potions. "I don't know." She'd taken it after all these years because she wanted to be in more classes with Bill. He was the one who needed them to be a Curse-Breaker, not her. "Maybe I'll drop them..." she considered. However, she wasn't going to drop Care of Magical Creatures seeing how much she enjoyed engaging with the animals. That class was like a mental break for her and getting outside felt good since she usually had her nose shoved in homework and a book.

If she did this she would have more time to focus on her passions rather than spreading herself thin. However, if she recalled correctly, she'd have to get an O.W.L. in Defence Against the Dark Arts and Beth wasn't certain if her choice of spells was exuberant enough for Rakepick.

The two of them put their heads down and continued with their work. Beth decided not to worry herself about the Arithmancy and Runes, finally deciding that she would go and hand the Time-Turner into Professor Sprout after dinner and express that she no longer wanted to take the classes seeing that it wouldn't aid her in her endeavors.

"It's just about dinner time and I believe it's a mandatory meeting tonight," Charlie roused her from her fantastic spinning of theories and ideas.

"Oh, alright, let me return this to Madam Pince," she didn't have to wander far as Pince had not lurked far from the book seeing that it belonged in the Restricted Section. The lanky witch glared through the book before contentedly closing it shut delicately and sweeping away so she could return it to its perch away from students.

Joining back up with Charlie, Beth reached about the same height as him. For some reason, all of the Weasleys were quite tall, even if she was taller than most girls. However, unlike Bill, Charlie was a bit more stocky.

Upon exiting, Bill and Percy were noticeable up ahead, but there was still a chill air between them and Charlie watched as Bill went ahead with Percy. "What did you two disagree about?" he asked, watching his brother taking long strides and Percy struggling to keep up.

"About Professor Rakepick's teaching methods and Emily Tyler," Beth tried to sound nonchalant about it, but instead she just sounded bitter.

"Uhg, Emily Tyler? Was she talking about how great she was again?" Charlie made a face.

"No... She just did some impressive magic and Bill wouldn't shut up about it," Beth told him, the words tumbling from her mouth before she could stop herself. Charlie was Bill's brother, it was likely that he'd just go and tell Bill what she said.

"I think he likes her. He's asked me what I thought of her and while she is pretty, I think she's mean and arrogant," Charlie admitted. "What did she do that was so impressive?"

Beth launched into recounting what had happened in her Defence class, finding herself getting all worked up about it again as she felt the bitterness of Professor Rakepick's brushing her off hit home again. "The simpler spell makes more sense! Why make more work for yourself?"

"No, I agree. Plus you didn't injure any of the bats in the process, which can't be said of those using the fire," he nodded, reassuring Bethany that the choice she had made was the correct one. She might have felt better if not for the fact that Charlie was two years younger than her and probably agreeing with her because he wanted to make her feel better. "Well... I'll see you later Charlie. Thanks for listening to me, you really didn't have to."

"I didn't mind, Bill is being stupid anyways," Charlie waved at her before they parted and went to opposite sides of the Great Hall to join the house tables. There wasn't a great feast like on Halloween, but there were sometimes dinners where all of the students were required to attend so that announcements could be made.

Beth found her spot beside Tonks and relaxed as dinner began. Professor Dumbledore never made them listen to him talk first, instead he waited until their bellies were filled and they were content before going forward with his announcements. Ford was openly talking about what he believed the announcement was going to be, leaning dramatically toward Mildred who had remained pretty much the same aside from losing a little bit of chubbiness in her face. Since the rest of her peers had grown around her, her size was much less apparent.

While they were enjoying dessert, Dumbledore stood up and cleared his throat, waiting for the school to grow quiet. He did not have to wait for long.

"Good evening," he greeted, his half-moon spectacles glinting against the light before revealing his striking blue eyes. "So far we have had a fairly good beginning of a school year, I'd say," Dumbledore referenced the professors behind him to gauge whether or not his words were true. A few professors smiled, although Snape remind stoic and McGonagall grimaced. "As is tradition, Hogwarts has a formal dance every five years. The theme of the ball has yet to be determined, although the date has been settled for the Friday before Christmas."

A ripple of murmurs spread like a gentle tide across the students. Dumbledore waited patiently to begin again. "To select a theme, you will first need to nominate a head for the decorating committee. You will need to submit your name with Professor Sprout and a vote will be taken from all students at the end of next week. If you would like to be on the committee, all you need to do is volunteer and give your name to Professor Flitwick who will also be aiding in choreographing this event."

Excitement overflowed at this point and it could be audibly heard that a few students wanted to help decorate the Great Hall for the dance.

"Now, now, I imagine you must all be excited. I only request that you remain on your best behavior until the dance, as professors can strip the privilege from you if behavior warrants such action," he paused, realizing that he only had a grasp on the students for barely a moment longer. "Have a very, magical evening."

* * *

"Uhg, I want to be head of the decorating committee, no one understands design as well as I do," Ford declared in the Hufflepuff common room. He had been talking about the head since Dumbledore had announced it a few days ago. He was incensed by the idea that Emily Tyler had also put her name and was friendly with Penny Haywood who had also expressed in wanting to be head as well. "Are you all ready yet?" he snapped, tapping his foot impatiently.

"It's cold out! I have to make sure I'm bundled enough," Tierra frowned, tucking in her yellow and black scarf before she stuck her tongue out at him.

"All the best dresses are going to get bought if you waste any more time," Ford sneered, trying to put some pep in their steps.

Beth's fingers twitched nervously beneath her gloves at the mention of dresses. She didn't know how she was going to afford one. Having written her family, she knew that there wouldn't be much money to afford a spectacular gown. The very idea of going into the shop in Hogsmeade daunted her.

The rest of their group formed; Tierra, Cayenne, Mildred, Beth, and Ford.

"Alright witches, let's goooo," Ford called out, leading the charge and grabbing Beth by the elbow so that he could hook his arm through hers and drag her along. "It's almost as if they're not that excited for a dance. If I were a girl I would have been up at the crack of dawn to go looking at dresses," he whispered into Beth's ear.

"There will be plenty of dresses," she chuckled, trying to half assure herself that there would also be dresses within her very low price range.

"What kind of dress are you going to look for?" he asked her eagerly, ready to gush over the fine details.

"I... don't know," she said honestly.

"Well, with your figure and hair, I'd say black would look very good on you. Maybe do sort of like a 50's bombshell inspired look with a pop of red lipstick?" Ford envisioned dramatically.

"Maybe you should dress me," Beth was joking when she said this, but there was a bright flame behind Ford's eyes the moment she mentioned it.

"Darling, consider it done," he pat her arm as they walked the length of the main corridor. A lot of students were filtering out to go to Hogsmeade, most of them being girls. Already boys had began asking dates for the dance, but Beth hadn't been asked by anyone. She wanted Bill to ask, but they hadn't really reconciled after their disagreement.

The November air was brisk, the wind bringing the last of the painted leaves as the deciduous trees shed those remaining from their branches. There had not been any snow just yet. It wasn't uncommon for snow to have already graced them in early November, but she revelled in this weather. Bethany hated the sweltering heat that summer brought and enjoyed the chill on the wind, which blew back her golden hair.

Hogsmeade was waiting for them, overflowing with girls who were all trying to cram themselves into the single dress shop. Beth blew a low whistle, watching as the employees tried to corral the amount of customers, eventually managing to form a line that would let people in as some came out. Forming a little group, the Hufflepuff 5th year girls all huddled close to keep warm.

"Who're you hoping will ask you to the dance?" Tierra started the conversation casually, a subject that all of them had been dwelling on. Noticing that they were all a bit leery to begin, Tierra started, "I'm hoping that Ackerly will ask me."

"Oh I bet he will," Mildred simpered.

"You think?" Tierra's dark cheeks flushed a bit deeper as she kicked at the dirt. "Are you hoping that Gerry will ask you?"

"He already has," Mildred giggled.

"Oh! That's amazing!" Cayenne squeaked, hugging Mildred.

"Yeah, I'm so happy... but I'm really surprised none of you have been asked yet," Mildred admitted.

"Boys will be boys, they're going to wait until the last second," Ford said dismissively, waving his hand. "The idiots anyways and most of them are idiots."

"What about you Cayenne?" Beth prompted.

"Uh... well there's a few boys I wouldn't mind asking me like Justin or... Adam..." she said mistily, glancing up as if the names would be there right above her head. "Who're you hoping for Beth?"

All eyes turned to her and Beth felt her face heat up. She didn't want to say, but since they had all been honest, they would expect the same of her. "Er... Bill," she muttered so quietly that everyone had to lean into hear her.

"AHA!" Ford screamed so loudly that everyone in line turned around to look at him. Once they'd turned back around, he put a hand on his hip. "I knew it. I always knew it."

Beth's ears burned like fire. "Is it that obvious?"

"The two of you spend a lot of time together," Mildred remarked. "But you're also top of the class, so that's not too strange."

"Well, Bethy, he'd be stupid not to ask you," Ford sniffed, putting an arm around her shoulders and squeezing.

The three other girls nodded and expressed their agreement. "I mean... It's kind of expected, innit? You're always together. I bet you and Bill will even be Head Boy and Girl come our 7th year," Tierra insisted.

"Thanks..." Beth drawled, still uncomfortable about expressing her feelings. A bit of doubt remained at this point. They hadn't talked in a few days which was really uncommon. But she wasn't going to apologize for disagreeing with Rakepick's preferred method of teaching. For someone who was supposedly one of the most talented witches, she was setting students up for failure. Not everyone could be as good as Emily Tyler when it came to controlling a fire spell.

They waited another 20 minutes before they were allowed to go inside of the dress store. Displays were a mess and some dresses were hanging on by single straps or crumpled on the floor. It almost appeared as if a stampede of horklumps tore the place up. But there were still gems hiding in the piles, discarded by those that did not find them worthy. Beth found a dress of midnight blue, but when she picked it up she saw a price tag of 20 galleons and immediately place it carefully back on the rack.

That pricetag hadn't even been the worst one. What hopes she originally had of finding a cheaper dress were dashed, perhaps they had all already been purchased. Her friends were gushing over dresses that they had found hidden among the fronds of fabric, not too worried about the hefty price tag. After all, a dance would only happen once while they were at Hogwarts, so they had to look their best.

She tried to blend in, make it seem as if she was just having trouble finding a dress, but her hands were beginning to quake from a mixture of disappointment and shame.

"Beth, did you find anything you liked?" Ford trotted over to join her, having been grading the dresses that their friends had been trying on. "You haven't gone to the changing room yet."

"Uh… nothing is really catching my eye," she said with a pitiful chuckle.

"What about this one right here?" Ford pulled out a maroon dress made of velvet. The pricetag flashed and Beth paled at the 35 Galleon cost. "Beth?"

"No," she said, her voice quavering.

"You should try it on, it's hard to tell when it's on the hanger," Ford insisted, holding it up in front of her.

"I…. I can't afford it," Beth dropped her voice so that only Ford could hear her, glaring at the ground as she said these words.

Ford dropped the gown and stared at her, as if he'd forgotten that her family didn't have a lot of money, that they were still trying to pay off accumulated debts and Beth didn't want to make it worse by demanding a good amount of money for a dress. "I'll pay for it," Ford said simply.

"No, I couldn't ask that of you," Beth said.

"_I will pay for it_," Ford insisted, frowning at Beth for trying to be modest. "I already have dress robes. Think of my as like… Your fairy god…. Queen."

"Ford I can't accept you doing that," Beth insisted, but she really wanted a dress.

"Then I'm going to buy it and make you wear it. How about that?" he placed a hand on his hip sassily and glared down at her. "My family is well off. You've seen my allowance. I can afford to drop some money on a dress for my best friend."

Beth's eyes began stinging, her lip trembled, and finally she nodded. "Thank you Ford."

Ford pulled Bethany into an embrace as she started to quietly cry. People always thought that it was strange that Ford was in Hufflepuff given his sassy, somewhat mean exterior. However, his friends knew that beneath that exterior was a caring wizard who would do anything to make his friends happy, even if it meant giving away everything he had. Ford was probably the most loyal Hufflepuff to ever have lived.

"Stop crying, you're going to look ugly and puffy when you try dresses on," Ford hissed, but he pat Beth on the back reassuringly. "Now then," when Beth pulled away Ford reached into his pocket and drew out a handkerchief that had his initials embroidered on it. "Wipe your grossness off and I'm going to pick a few more dresses."

Beth nodded and wiped her face with the cloth before pointing her wand to it and siphoning off the fluids. Ford had already begun going through the racks again, piling up dresses that he believed would suit her. Trailing after him, she watched as he continued to pile them up.

"Try them on," he shoved them into her arms and then took position by the changing rooms so that he could moderate and give the thumbs up and down. By this point, the three other girls had chosen dresses and had them bagged, ready to go.

Beth tried on various dresses in all sorts of shades, some of which made her look too pale, others that gave her a yellow countenance. Black, maroon, and emerald suited her complexion the best and it soon became a battle between three gowns.

"Well, I think that black makes more sense since we're in Hufflepuff and it's one of our colors," Cayenne remarked as Beth stood there awkwardly in the emerald gown.

"But the maroon really brings out her eyes," Mildred insisted.

"Yeah but what if she doesn't go to the dance with a Gryffindor?" Tierra sighed.

"The black one," Ford decided. "Put it back on."

Beth nodded and hiked up the skirt, returning to the changing room to swap again. She slipped the black velvet gown on, which was off the shoulder and had a sweetheart neckline. Had Beth not been tall or hourglass shaped, the gown might have been a bit too form fitting for a girl of her age. But at nearly 16, Beth doubted she was going to grow anymore, having been thrust into a womanly figure that was often hidden beneath her robes.

Drawing in breath as she stepped out again, Beth approached her friends, Ford clapping his hands together in delight. "That's it. That's the one," Ford decided. "I think you could so some dramatic waves in your hair, parted to the side, I can do you makeup too…" he stepped up to look her over, plucking her headband off and fluffing her golden hair around her face. "Just stop slouching. You've got a body girl, show it off."

"Beth that dress does look very good on you," Tierra agreed.

"Thanks…" she'd never worn anything so… glamorous in her life. Her favorite dress had been the velvet one with golden stars on it. In a manner, this was similar as it twinkled with the sparkles that were set into the velvet, shimmering as she moved. The trumpet flare to the gown did impede her movement a bit, but thankfully the velvet was a bit stretchy.

"I take back what I said. That one is the one," Mildred told her.

"Then…. This is it," Beth said, still slightly uncomfortable in her own skin, the hair prickling against her bare arms.

"Go get changed, I'll pick out some shoes for you. You're a size… 10 right? Big feet for a tall girl," Ford snorted, trying to recall how big her feet were despite being hidden beneath the dress.

"Yes," Beth said, trying not to sound nasty as Ford was purchasing the dress for her. She returned to the changing room and put her jeans and sweater back on, tucking her pants into her boots. Finally, she slid her headband back into place and then threw her baggy jacket over her shoulders, which had belonged to Oliver a few years ago. It was his rugby team jacket that he'd outgrown, a vibrant blue and white with the number 12 on the back.

When she rejoined everyone, Ford was at the counter paying for the dress and shoes. He flounced over, not mentioning the cost and said, "Let's go get some butterbeer."

Nods and chimes of agreement came from them all and they went out to greet the line of still waiting witches to go and salvage what dresses were left. A cold wind made them all shudder and Beth drew her Hufflepuff scarf close, shoving her hands into her pockets.

The Three Broomsticks wasn't as densely populated as usual on a Hogsmeade weekend. Everyone seemed to be preoccupied with the dance to stop and take a moment to enjoy the weekend off. Shoving themselves into a booth, dresses were hung over the edge, protected by their garment bags. Madam Rosmerta glided toward them once they were settled in, her green eyes focusing on Ford.

"What'll it be for you all?" she asked kindly.

"Butterbeer for the table, darling," Ford told her with a wide waving gesture.

Madam Rosmerta disappeared for a moment, returning with 5 butterbeers. She slid them dexterously in front of them all and everyone thanked her before she went off again.

"You know, it kind of stinks that our dance is during our O.W.L. year," Cayenne frowned, wiping up a butterbeer mustache.

"Imagine if we were taking our N.E.W.T.s.," Tierra pointed out, which caused most of them to shudder with the thought. "Thankfully it's early enough in the year that it shouldn't mess with our studying too much."

"If it were at the end of the year that would be way more stressful. Dance or O.W.L.s…. Dance or O.W.L.s?" Mildred pretended as if she were a scale and balancing each topic.

Beth began to tune out the smalltalk, glancing out the window quietly, resigning herself to thought. No one really noticed, she'd often fall out of conversation while she dwelled on other things. A small flurry of snow began to fall outside, which caused a smile to creep gently over Beth's features.

"Beth? Hello, earth to Beth," Ford was waving his hand in front of her, trying to bring her back to reality.

"Sorry, it began snowing outside," she said distractedly, turning her eyes to look at her friend.

"Bill just turned up. Maybe he's looking for you?" Ford kicked her under the table and jerked his head in the direction of the door without turning around.

Beth glanced in the direction of the door, noticing that Bill was standing there in one of the sweaters that his mother had knitted him. His long red hair flashed in the dim light and he was looking around, as if searching for someone. In his hand he had a bouquet of roses and Beth's heart fluttered, wondering if those were for her and if he was going to apologize. He spotted her and Beth waved lightly. Bill returned the wave, but he was clearly distracted, turning around and heading back out the door.

The smile fell from Beth's face and she turned her head to look out the window to see where Bill was headed. If those flowers weren't for her, then who were they for? Snow flakes were coming down harder now, it was a bit difficult to see as he crossed the street and paused, stopping a witch in a pink sweater and scarf.

Beth's heart sank as Bill offered her the bouquet of roses. Now, Beth could see the brown ponytail that belonged to Emily Tyler.

Standing up abruptly, her cheeks flushed wildly and sought to get out of the sweltering tavern. Ford's eyebrows shot up and the other girls gave her questionable looks. "I need to get some fresh air. I'll meet you back at the castle?" Beth asked, wringing her fingers in her hair as her emotions threatened to overwhelm her for the second time that day.

"Alright…" Ford said as Beth wiggled out of the booth and hurried for the door, flinging it open and glaring across the road where Bill stood talking to Emily, who wore an almost bored expression.

So what if Bill didn't want to go to the dance with her? It wasn't as if no one else wouldn't ask her, right? But even as she stormed up the path that led back to Hogwarts, her resolve crumbled and the self doubt stirred once again. It had been dormant for a couple of years now. Beth was surrounded by loving friends and had thought that Bill might also have feelings for her. Every year her affection for him had only grown, but she'd never made it obvious as she couldn't take being spurned. Instead, she waited, hoping that an opportunity like a dance would come up so that she could see if Bill would ask her.

He didn't.

Instead of continuing to Hogwarts, Beth took a detour and the moment she was off the path and within the fronds of the evergreens she shed her human skin and flung herself onto all four paws. The forbidden forest didn't frighten her, not while she was a nearly 200lb jaguar. Her paws turned over the fresh snow and stirred the pine needle undergrowth. Her emotions were stronger, more potent, and she saw red, going for the nearest tree.

Her claws ripped into the bark, sharper than sword as she continued to maul it. The forest was quiet aside from the rough grinding noise she was making as she attacked the tree, stripping it completely of its outer layer. Her claws hurt and her chest heaved as she glared at the trunk, a low growl escaping the back of her throat. What was so impressive about Emily Tyler? Was she an Animagus? No, she wasn't. Beth was. That was much more impressive that having control of a simple fire spell.

Bethany stalked further into the forest, her massive paws chilled by the snow and cold earth. A rustle up ahead made her ears twitch. Instinctually she pressed her body low to the ground, her belly rubbing the undergrowth as she prowled forward. Her jaws opened slightly and she could smell whatever it was since she was upwind; earth, broomstick polish, campfire, and meat?… Glancing from over the ridge which she pressed to, she looked below to see Charlie Weasley trotting through the forbidden forest with ferrets strung on his arms.

Why was Charlie in the forest by himself? Was Hagrid nearby?

Beth stood up and started down the hill, bunching her hindquarters and pouncing almost soundlessly. However the snow and pine needles were slick and her paws slipped from beneath her. Charlie whipped his head in her direction and raised his wand, eyes widening as he was astounded to find a jaguar scrambling down the hill, unable to gain control of its paws.

He was raising his wand to cast a spell and Beth did the only thing she could in that moment; she shifted back to a human and fell into the snow right on her face.

"Beth!?" Charlie lowered his wand and hurried over, dumping the string of ferrets to the ground so he could grab her arm and pull her to her feet. "You're an Animagus?"

Beth spat out some pine needles and rubbed the soiled snow from her face, the bite of the cold causing her skin to flush red along with the embarrassment of being so clumsy. "Uh, yeah. Why are you in the forest by yourself?"

"I'm not. Hagrid is not too far off. We came in to feed some Hippogriffs…. When did you become an Animagus?" his eyes were as round as saucers. "I have to admit, you really gave me a start. I didn't think big cats prowled these forests."

"They don't," Beth chuckled. "I know, my form doesn't exactly blend in well with the English countryside."

"You were amazing! Imagine what you could do as a panther! You've got to be so powerful and quick in that form," Charlie exclaimed.

"I suppose… but you saw how well I was able to deal with winter conditions. I just became an Animagus not too long ago. I've been trying for months now," Beth said, picking up his string of ferrets.

"It'll take some time for your body to get used to it… Want to come along?" Charlie gestured down the path.

Beth considered it, her eyes wandering through the winding forest path. The snow had begun to fill the boroughs of the tree, causing the great branches to sag beneath the weight. For once, it was remarkably light within the woods due to gaps that allowed for the grey light of the sky to penetrate. "Why not?" she said finally, following Charlie deeper into the forest.

The tree broke apart to form a clearing. Within it was a pack of Hippogriffs, shaking off the snow at it pelted their great feathery hides. Hagrid was already waiting.

"Oh, Charlie, I was wonderin' where you had gotten off to," Hagrid said before turning around. He noticed Beth, "You brought a friend along?"

"This is Bethany Hiddleston," Charlie gestured over to her.

They had crossed paths among many occasions, but Beth had never stopped to speak with the giant man. Instead, she'd only noticed his home on her way to Astronomy or the Owlery. Before Halloween, enormous pumpkins would be growing out in front of his hut. In spite of his height, Hagrid always had a kind and gentle expression beneath his burly beard.

"Hello, nice to meet you formally," Beth extended her hand to Hagrid.

Throwing his own string of ferrets over his shoulder, Hagrid took her hand his enormous one, chasing away any chill that had once been there. "Nice to meet ya Beth... Though people don't really know my door is always open if anyone wants to pop in," he said, releasing her hand and hobbling toward one of the great beasts. "Charlie, can you show Beth how to greet the Hippogriffs?"

"Of course I can," Charlie grinned, grabbing one of the ferrets from the rope that Beth had. "They're here for a N.E.W.T. leveled class that Kettleburn is teaching. I've been helping Hagrid take care of them," he bristled with pride as he said this, twirling the ferret around.

"You're handling N.E.W.T. leveled beasts?" she arched her brow at him, impressed that Charlie had such skill depsite only having taken the Magical Creatures class for a couple of months.

"Well... don't tell anyone, but I've been helping Hagrid since my first year," Charlie informed her. "Anyways, Hippogriffs are wonderful creatures. You just have to be careful, they're prideful. Anytime you approach a Hippogriff you have to show your respect by bowing toward them. The Hippogriff will bow back if it acknowledges you as an equal."

"And if it doesn't bow back?" Beth asked him.

"Uh, well, let's just hope it doesn't get to that point," Charlie said. "Here, I'll show yo, they're really great."

Charlie stepped up to square off with one of the great feathered beasts. His head only reached to just above its shoulder, similar to a horse's height. However, the head was affixed with keen eyes and a deadly sharp beak that could disengage a wizard in a second. Beth's fingers twitched for her wand as Charlie waved the ferret in front of him, garnering attention from the Hippogriff.

Charlie immediately sunk into a bow, bending deeply at his waist, glancing up only slightly to see the reaction of the Hippogriff. He was met by a similar bow.

Charlie stood and offered the ferret, snatching his fingers back from the sharp beak as the creature gobbled it up in a single gulp. He took a few more steps forward and began petting the Hippogriff's head.

"Beth, you can try now, slow and steady," Charlie urged, waving for her to come forward.

A shaky laugh escaped her throat as she removed her hand from her pocket where she had been holding her wand. Beth had loved dealing with magical creatures, but somehow she felt odd without Professor Kettleburn there to keep a watchful eye on her. Additionally, she'd not dealt with Hippogriffs before and her lack of knowledge made her even more nervous. Before she handled anything in class she always had time to read up on them.

However, Charlie's encouragement helped her edge forward. Once she was close enough to them she lowered herself in a bow so deep that she was melting some of the snow on the ground in front of her. She was so nervous that she didn't even glance up to see if the animal had bowed back.

"You can stand up Beth, she's acknowledged you," Charlie informed her, a small chuckle parting from him.

When Beth stood up, the Hippogriff was considerably closer than she recalled. Her hair was blown back by it snuffing and it leaned forward and grabbed a ferret from the rope she had been wearing. Beth stiffled a scream, releasing her breath when the Hippogriff drew back and ate its second prize.

"Here, I'll take that," Charlie pulled the string of ferrets off of her shoulders and offering the creature another with little fear. "You can pet her too, she won't mind."

Beth gave her friend a tremulous smile, but her hands were quick in her pockets as the proximity of such a dangerous beast was causing her to quiver slightly.

"A-are you certain?" she removed her hand from her pocket, but was still hesitant.

"Yes, she likes to be scratched right above her beak," Charlie took her hand and placed it on top of the Hippogriff's face.

The feathers were smooth and soft, reminding her Gibbles' feathers. Rather than being bothered, the large beast leaning into her palm and fingers. Beth felt herself growing more relaxed as the Hippogriff crooned and enjoyed the attention, barely registering that Charlie's hand was still over hers.

Her fleeting glance over at him resulted in him snatching his hand back: "See? Not that bad," he insisted, but there was a slight bit of color on his freckled face.

"No... No it wasn't."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight.**

* * *

Wind whipped Beth's golden hair around her face, each piece striking her like thin whips as a cool chill preceded the game. Not even the hot chocolate cupped in her hands could toast the edges of her frozen fingers and when she sipped at the drink, she thought that it was losing its heat rather swiftly. Amber and crimson sailed against an envious green tide of players. They all sat on the edges of their seats. Slytherin had won the last four Quidditch Cups. At this point, the other three houses were just hoping that someone would beat them, be it their own house or not. The inclimate weather didn't make for the best viewing either.

Beth was huddled in the stands with Bill, Percy, Ford, and Cayenne. The Weasleys were quiet, their attention rapt on the game happening above them as their brother was flying through the sleet. Ford was muttering under his breath to Cayenne, adamant on making certain someone would pity him as he complained of losing feeling in his toes. Bethany wouldn't listen to his simpering and so he turned to their much sweeter friend.

So far, Gryffindor was leading pretty well at 50-0. Even with the foul weather, Charlie could fly circles around the Slytherin Seeker, Jaintly. However, how anyone could see a Snitch while flying was beyond Beth and she didn't envy Charlie's position in the cold, brutal sky. Part of her was happy she'd declined joining the Quidditch team. She couldn't imagine having the time for it.

No one wanted to be up in the sky in this weather and Slytherin was becoming increasingly impatient. The announcer's voice could barely be heard over the din of the wind smacking against the stands. "Oh and that looked like that hurt. A Bludger hit Belcher square on the back-" one of the Gryffindor chasers was fluttering toward the ground like an injured butterfly.

Angry hoots and boos echoed through the stands, but it was unlikely that they could be heard jeering in the sky. With one chaser down, Gryffindor had difficulty passing the Quaffle was exceeding success. Their strategy had relied upon the third player being around to bounce it between them without there being too severe of a distance. The sleet made it difficult to see and blew back the Quaffle a bit depending on if they were up or down wind.

Slytherin seized the opportunity to turn over the Quaffle where they could and suddenly, they were scoring points on the Gryffindor keeper. The beaters fought admirably to try and knock a Slytherin off their broom, but the weather worked against them.

"Oh! Oh! Does he see the Snitch?" Ford had gotten up to point in the direction of what appeared to be Charlie.

The red blur was closely trailed by a green, but it was difficult to discern much other than their shapes. Ford's observation had some leverage to it as Charlie appeared to be chasing after something. Was there a flash of gold or was that a trick of the eye? Shielding her eyes, Beth tried to glare through the hail and sleet to glimpse the Snitch. What she saw was much worse.

Whizzing through the air, the Bludger had been hit in the direction of the Seekers. Whether by Gryffindor or Slytherin, she could only guess. Completely engulfed by the item in front of him, Charlie reached out to grab it and- No sickening crunch was audible, but it didn't need to be. Gasps erupted around them and Bill was standing, clutching the edge of the stand as his brother sagged against his broom and flew straight into the stand in front of him.

"CHARLIE!" Bill shouted, pushing through the onlookers and hurrying down the stand.

Percy and Beth didn't wait, following after him quickly. The game was still ongoing above them, but a few professors had made their way down to the field to assess the damage to the two Gryffindors. Belcher only seemed to have been rendered unconscious and was getting back on his broom to join the game again. However, Charlie was sitting up, cradling what appeared to be a broken arm.

"Are you alright, Weasley?" Professor McGonagall was stooping over him, trying to survey the damage as they ran up to join them.

"I… I've been better," Charlie blinked and closed his eyes, clearly lightheaded.

"We can take him to the Hospital Wing," Bill offered quickly, crouching beside his younger brother to inspect the damage himself.

"Yes, he'll need treatment for that arm…" Professor McGonagall looked from Charlie and then to Beth.

"Let's get him up then and let's be careful with the arm-" Beth came around, trying to think where it would be best to lift him.

"Here, this will help," McGonagall drew her wand and a splint and bindings formed on Charlie's broken forearm. "That'll help until you can get to the Hospital Wing."

Seeing that Percy was too small to help carry his stocky brother, Beth took the uninjured arm and slipped it around her shoulders, pulling Charlie to his feet. Bill had only just gotten to his feet to tentatively aid by supporting as much weight as he could without disturbing the splinted arm. Licking the icy water from her lips, Beth glanced at Percy who was standing in front of them whitefaced.

"Go ahead," she managed before turning her attention to Charlie. "Just walk with us. We're taking you to see Madam Pomfrey, Charlie."

Charlie's stiff legs waded beside them as they left the Quidditch Pitch and began uphill. She felt as if she'd saddled herself with the most weight, as Bill couldn't carry Charlie in the same manner that she was. Her boots slipped through the ruddy path, but remained surefooted as Percy skirted up ahead, glancing back nervously to watch their progress. Bill had stepped behind them to make certain that neither Beth or Charlie slipped in the freezing mud.

The journey back up to Hogwarts seemed gruelling and unusually cruel. Once they were inside, she wondered why McGonagall didn't have a much swifter way of getting Charlie there, but was bleakly reminded that it was impossible to apparate on the Hogwarts grounds. Warmth radiated inside of the Hospital Wing as they set Charlie in a bed. He was a bit delirious, in and out of consciousness.

Bill's face was a stern mask, difficult to read, as he sat by the side of his brother, waiting for the matron to hurry out to see what injuries the Quidditch game had brought.

"Oh, foul weather for a Quidditch game," Madam Pomfrey snipped as she glanced at the bindings and shook her head. "Broken radius and ulna… Bet a Bludger did that," she drew her wand and in a commanding tone spoke the incantation, "_Os emantur ligna._" A warm amber light wrapped itself around them and Charlie twitched slightly as his bones were mended. "Mr. Weasley… The injured one… Yes, wake up please," she snapped her fingers in front of his face and roused Charlie for a moment. "Follow the light of my wand please," she illuminated the tip, but Charlie couldn't focus on it. "Hmm… Did he hit his head?"

"Collided with the stands," Percy squeaked, staring at Charlie with round eyes.

"He's probably got a concussion… Just a moment then," she swept back off to retrieve a potion.

Beth shivered, her wet clothes sticking to her.

"Bethany…" Bill entreated, glancing at her from over his brother. "Thank you for helping to bring Charlie here. I appreciate you helping my brother."

Beth's lips twitched slightly, but not in a smile. Trying not to frown at Bill, she was about to speak when Madam Pomfrey returned with a mysterious draught. "Mr. Weasley…. Up for another moment, you need to drink this," she instructed, easing Charlie up before she administered the potion and let him lay back down. Her eyes swept between them. "If you're going to stay with him, I suggest you clean yourselves up. Filth does not help the sick and injured."

They were all sopping wet, their legs and boots muddy.

"Perc, why don't you run off? I'll keep an eye on Charlie," Bill told his younger sibling.

Percy pushed up his glasses, glancing once from Charlie and then to Bill. "Ok," he said finally before departing.

Beth had drawn her wand, siphoning away the water and mud from herself. When she had finished, she turned her wand to clean off Charlie, considering Bill's words. "You know, Charlie is my friend, not just your brother," Beth informed him, her stomach churning uncomfortably. She hadn't mentioned anything about what she had seen a couple of weeks ago in Hogsmeade. Part of her didn't want to think about it, as if denying she saw it made it less true.

"You became friends with him because he's my brother. That doesn't matter, you carried most of the burden up to the school. And impressively too," Bill commended.

Beth's ego was still deflated and his kind words didn't rouse a smile. "Thanks," she said stiffly, placing her palms on her pants and glancing down at Charlie who was still a bit pale. Her eyes slid down to his still splinted arm, curious as to how a simple incantation had mended bone so swiftly. Was it as simple as speaking the words or was a deeper understanding of the medical field required to put bone back together? Beth yearned to know, though she'd never been this interested by healing magic before. Then again, she'd never witnessed a bone healing spell.

"You don't have to stay either," Bill said, not unkindly.

"I-I guess I'll go," his insistence to be alone with Charlie was making her uncomfortable. She rose from her chair to leave the family together and turned for the door.

"B-Beth, don't go," Charlie's weak voice made her halt and turn around. He had woken up, if for just a moment, to turn his head toward her.

Beth looked to Bill, whose eyebrows had shot up. "I guess… don't leave," he said, his tone curious as Beth sat back down across from him.

* * *

The ball was only a couple of weeks away and Beth's patience was waning. No one had asked her to the dance just yet, which made her feel oddly defective. This phenomenon wasn't felt by just her, as apparently many guys had decided to wait until the last moment to ask the girl of their choice to the dance. Of course, the prettiest girls had all been asked several times and if they didn't have a date by now, it was because they were waiting for a better match. Beth just wished someone would ask her. Why wouldn't anyone ask her?

Even if she was a little moody with the upcoming dance, Ford was thrilled that he had been chosen to head the decorating committee with Penny Haywood. They had beaten out Emily Tyler and decided to work together. This was a small victory for Beth as she wanted to jump with splendor at the site of Emily's face puckered up and indignant from her loss.

She didn't want to seem like she was wallowing, so Beth focused on writing essays. Since she had dropped the additional electives, she had the time to begin writing theories on Transfiguration again. She had approached McGonagall after watching Madam Pomfrey heal Charlie and told her that she had decided she wanted to be a Healer. Becoming a mediwitch would require additional learning outside of Hogwarts, but the prospect of a new challenge enlightened her and distracted her from the fact she didn't have a date to the Celestial Ball.

Perhaps Beth's endeavors were meant to be in the scholarly world, not the romantic. Even if Bill was on more friendly talking terms after she'd carried Charlie up to the Hospital Wing, it didn't change the fact that he hadn't asked her to the dance. Due to her lack of requests, she was beginning to think that she'd been a fool to think someone as popular as Bill would even consider asking her.

Self consciousness crippled her and when she looked in the mirror she wondered if her nose was too upturned and pig-like or if her chin was too pointy. Each time she looked, Beth found another feature that she hated and could ascertain herself that it was the reason she hadn't been asked to the dance.

"Goldie what's with that face?" Ford leaned over her, glancing down at the long roll of parchment that Beth had been working at for an hour, but had barely written more than a few sentences.

"Hm? Nothing… Just thinking," she grumbled, trying to set her mind back to the task at hand.

"No… Your thinking face is more like this," Ford screwed his face up and tried to look at smart as he could. "You're more like this," he became forlorn and glanced dolefully from side to side.

"No one has asked me to the dance. Maybe I should return the dress so you don't waste your money on it," Beth sighed, setting her quill down and glancing up at him.

"What?" Ford immediately cleared his throat, realizing how harsh he had sounded. "No, you're not returning your dress… Bill didn't ask you?"

Beth pursed her lips and shook her head. "He asked Emily Tyler."

Ford snorted. "What does he see in that-" his brows furrowed. "He's not going with Emily Tyler. She's going with Belcher."

A glimmer of hope appeared momentarily before it crashed back down to earth. If Bill had been turned down then why hadn't he approached her? That was clearly what Ford was thinking, but as she contemplated it she came to a simple realization.

_He doesn't like me that way_.

From the moment she arrived at Hogwarts, she and Bill had been close friends. Her adoration had blossomed into deeper feelings, but it wasn't so strange that Bill saw her more like family than a prospective girlfriend. Ford's prying only made her feel worse now. What would it take for Bill to not see her as the girl next door? She thought for certain that her prowess in Transfiguration and knowledge in Potions might be enough, but clearly it wasn't an academic girl he was attracted to.

Her mind flashed to Rakepick and she wanted to pick up her dissertation and throw it in the fire. Practicality vs flashiness. Beth wasn't flashy, she was clever and functional. Why make things unnecessarily harder? Was Emily Tyler an Animagus? Was Professor Rakepick an Animagus? No, neither of them were, unless they were unregistered. Beth was the first registered Animagus since McGonagall.

"Earth to Beth," Ford was waving his hand in front of her, trying to garner her attention. "There you are. So, the stupid redhead hasn't asked you?"

She shook her head quickly, unable to unglue her tongue from the roof of her mouth.

"Idiot," Ford cursed, glaring at the fire. "You know what? None of the simpletons here are good enough for my Goldie. They're all bloody idiots. I'm going to take you to the ball."

Beth stared at Ford for a long moment. "But Ford you don't… you couldn't-"

"I can and I will. Also, just because I'm taking you to the dance doesn't mean I have the hots for you, you little idiot," he patted her lightly on the head, meaning to scold her, but it was more like an affectionate pet. "And I'll make certain your hair and makeup is glorious so you can slay and make all the stupid boys regret that they didn't ask you."

"What if someone asks me?"

"_Oh well!_ You're my date to the Celestial Ball now Ms. Bethany Hiddleston and you won't be getting rid of me. Bill had his chance to ask and I'm not going to let you get stuck hanging around like the last kid to get chosen for a sport's team," he told her resolutely. "Now, what are you going to say if Bill asks you to the dance?"

Beth wanted to say yes, but Ford was right, she needed to have some standards and respect for herself. "No."

"I'm sorry that was weak. What are you going to say?" he cupped his ear.

"No, I'm going with Ford Gosling," she repeated albeit stronger.

"Good and he'll be very confused, but stick it to him!" Ford roared, drawing the eyes of those in the Hufflepuff Basement before he settled down. "You're not last pick Beth. You're far from it. And if Bill can't see that, then there's no helping him. Someone is out there that will think you're as amazing as I do."

"Thanks Ford."

"Don't mention it… Oh, so what were you telling me before… About there being a Muggle brand of cars named after me?"

Beth rolled her eyes, Ford grinning at her widely. "It's an American brand of cars and they weren't named after you."

"It has my name so I'd beg to differ."

* * *

Almost, as if by magic, Beth was asked by two different wizards to go to the dance. She hadn't been keen on going to the dance with either Rodney or Eddie, but it did warm her that she wasn't last choice and some guys had just been too nervous to ask her. She did feel a bit bad about turning them down and the looks on their faces when she told them that she was going with Ford. Rodney's face had actually gotten quite red when she had informed him, as if she had spurred him by saying she'd rather go with Ford than a boy that genuinely liked her.

She wanted Bill to ask, just so she could have the satisfaction of telling him no, but it didn't happen. Later, she discovered that he was now going to the ball with Minnow Mallard, a Ravenclaw. His choice was certainly…. Unexpected. And it was this random choice to go with Minnow that elicited more foul emotions toward him. Why was this random girl he'd never spoken about a better date than her?

Beth sat in main corridor, staring out the window into the snowy courtyard, the natural light illuminating the book on her lap. She yawned gently before thumbing through the homework on Care of Magical Creatures. Having set it aside for long enough, she now needed to have it all done for class tomorrow. Beth was still contemplating how she was going to tackle the homework when a shadow fell over her shoulders. She peeled her eyes from the window and glanced up to see Laurel, followed closely by Danicia. Even if Beth didn't like her, there was no denying that Laurel was a pretty and fair young lady. Her beauty was only marred by the smug smirk that often was smeared on her face. Danicia was average looking, but strutted around as if she had looks comparable to Laurel.

Over the years, Bethany had learned that ignoring them had worked best. On many occasions it had, but there had been incidents where she couldn't keep her mouth shut and had to stand her ground. They knew that eventually they would cross a line that Beth couldn't ignore. The seasons for their torment came and went like the full moon, often Laurel's attention would wane and she'd move elsewhere. However, she stood rather impish in front of Beth, no doubt itching to spill what new gossip or rumors she had of Beth.

"So Hiddleston, I've heard you haven't got a date to the ball yet," Laurel sneered, tossing her hair back.

Danicia mirrored her, sniggering at the idea that Beth didn't have a date.

"I do," Beth answered mildly.

"Sure you do," she drawled, rolling her eyes. "I heard a few boys tried to ask you recently and you turned them down. But as far as I know, Ford Gosling isn't a proper date to the ball."

Bethany's cheeks burned and now she was glaring at them. How could they know anything about Ford? He had done more for her than any other boy at the school. Even if he didn't like girls, that didn't make him less of a date than any other male. "Try not to fool yourselves. You're just jealous that no one supported your nomination for Decoration Committee Head and you had to withdraw before embarrassing yourself against Emily, Penny, and Ford."

Laurel's cheeks were pink from the sting of her retort.

"Doesn't change the fact that he's gay," Danicia quipped for her flushing friend.

"So what if he is? I don't care," Beth replied evenly.

"Don't care? You do know that means you two can't be together, _together_," Danicia spoke slowly as if Beth couldn't comprehend.

"Just because we're going to the dance together doesn't mean we're going out," Beth replied in just as slow and dumb sounding voice as Danicia. "People can go to the dance as friends."

"_Friends_," Laurel recovered and snuck a glance at Danicia that was haughty and mockfully pitiful. "This is your one chance for a ball and you're going with your gay best friend? I don't know what's more sad... Aside from the poor fools you told no to."

"Scorn me all you'd like, but I understand what a true friend is and it's not tag teaming someone who trying to study to mock them. If I were you, I would be studying Transfiguration in the library for your O.W.L.s... Although, I know there's barely any hope for either of you to pass, you might as well try," Beth stood up and snapped her book shut. She knew that poking at their grades would send them into a rage. After all, Beth was a Mudblood and excelled in one of the most difficult fields of study.

Danicia and Laurel were lackluster students, believing that they wouldn't have to lift a finger to learn, as they'd marry into a prestigious family and live on the old money. When given the chance, Beth was more than happy to oblige and remind them how terrible they were at being witches.

"You're smiling now Hiddleston, but just you wait. You might be smarter than us, but we know people. People who also hate filthy little Mudbloods such as yourself. It's a countdown until retribution for scum like you," Laurel hissed as Beth waved her hand in a scornful wave and started down the hall. She had made threats over the years and Beth had never put much salt in them. The Dark Lord was deceased and the Slytherins needed to get their heads out of their butts and get with the times.

Bethany was trailing down the hall toward the library, where she wouldn't be disturbed, when a familiar face rounded the corner. She was a bit more confident after feeling she had won the argument and smiled at Charlie. "Hello Charlie," she greeted warmly.

A grin spread across his face. "Just the witch I was looking for."

"Well, you've found me," Beth conceded. "What's up?"

Charlie had made a full recovery since the Quidditch incident. Beth had thought it a bit odd that he had requested she stay by his bedside, but hadn't minded visiting everyday until he was released. One of them, be it Bill, Percy, or Charlie, must have written to Mrs. Weasley, because Beth received some sweets from her and a thank you for looking after Charlie and helping him up to the Hospital Wing.

Molly had stayed in communication with her mother, Rebecca, by owl over all these years. This allowed her mother to further comprehend the wizarding world and Molly also had a Muggle penpal she could use to ask all the questions Arthur had about Muggle technology. Beth knew that Rebecca loved writing to Molly as she tried to find normality in the world and there had been a few summers that they'd even gone to the Burrow to have dinner in their garden with all the other young Weasley children running amok.

Beth's own opinion of Mrs. Weasley was that she was warm and kind. Even if she was almost always scolding her children (Fred and George the most) she somehow managed to think of Beth and send her socks or a scarf for Christmas in the Hufflepuff colors.

"I have a question for you," Charlie prompted.

"Is it about Transfiguration?" she was accustomed to his questions about classes and it wasn't uncommon that she would explain theories and help him through his endeavors studying.

"Uh, no," Charlie said, his smile flickering ever so slightly. "I was wondering if you'd go to the ball with me."

Beth's heart wasn't ready for the shock of Charlie asking her to the dance. The smile fell right off of her face and she was suddenly lost, staring at Charlie without seeing. Why on earth would Charlie ask her to the ball? Sure, they got along well, but he was two years younger and the little brother of one of her closest friends. She'd told Bill that Charlie was also her friend, but she never meant to apply it to a situation such as this.

Realizing that she was eerily silent, a smile flickered back on her face. "I'm sorry Charlie, I've already got a date," but was she sorry? Her heart was hammering in her chest and she was quite uncertain why. She'd never felt Charlie was anything more than a friend, but as he stood there in front of her, expectant and hopeful, she saw the similarities between he and Bill.

The red-haired, freckled skin, and blue eyes. However, Charlie was the same height as her, where Bill overstepped her. He was broader and more muscular than his brother, his skin tanned from long hours outside after classes. But he had just turned 14... Which seeing that Beth was going to be 16 after the holiday, seemed quite too young for her.

"Oh," Charlie managed to keep his voice even and nonchalant. "I did wait a bit too long, didn't I? Should have asked you earlier," he was now talking to himself more than anything.

"I mean... I would have said yes if I didn't have a date," she thought she was lying through her teeth when she said this, but Beth's voice sounded completely honest, which astounded even her. Everyone knew that she was a terrible liar. Did she like Charlie as more than a friend?

She forced the idea out of her head and tried to find a way out of this awkward situation. "But we can certainly dance or something at the ball..."

"Right, certainly," Charlie's face was turning as red as hers felt.

"Uh, have a good night then Charlie."

"You too Beth."

And they parted ways, Beth's ears burning as hot as a fire as she scurried down the hall and toward her common room instead of the library. Did Charlie genuinely have a crush on her? Why else would he ask her to the dance? Suddenly his keenness of visiting her and asking for help seemed more blatant than before. Beth had just believed he had been friendly with her, as he was with many other people. Maybe that's all it had been in the beginning, but Charlie had clearly developed some sort of feelings for her.

Could she return them? Beth's heart was beating so quickly that she had certainly been made nervous by this act, but was it nerves or feelings? What about Bill? For so long she bore feelings toward him and had never gotten the chance to speak on behalf of them. Part of her also felt terrible if she ended up with Bill and Charlie still liked her. Then what would Bill think if Beth decided she did like Charlie?

Beth might have been smart academically, but she had no idea where to begin with this mess of relationships.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine.**

* * *

Bethany had given herself time to mull over Charlie Weasley asking her to go to the ball with him. She decided that it was only normal for her to become nervous upon being doted on by the younger brother of a close friend. Thus, she pushed it aside and pretended as if the awkward encounter hadn't happened and it had been resolved peacefully. She still waved at Charlie in the hallway, but didn't act out more than she had before. Even though she was still being kind to him, she noticed that he was still a bit embarrassed by being turned down and she couldn't fault him for that.

"Ow Ford! You're going to scalp me!" Beth cried as Ford tugged the hairbrush through her long golden strands again with vigor.

"It's not my fault you have so much damn hair. It needs to be brushed properly before I can style it," he hissed, getting the last of the knots out. "Now then, sit pretty so I can do this. You're going to slay tonight and I'm going to make certain of it."

Beth suppressed a sigh, rather badly, and glanced at the other girls who were getting ready in their dorm. Somehow, Ford had always been able to walk past the enchantment that kept boys from entering girl dorms and no one ever had any qualms with it. In fact, the other three girls were delighted to have him in the room, giving critiques and helping out with hair and makeup as if it were his job.

Ford lathered a cream in his hand that said something like "Gilberta's Shine and Hold Cream" and had a picture of a smiling witch with elegantly curled hair on it. Running his fingers through her hair, Beth felt as if he'd smeared grease through it and soiled it. He drew his wand and began using it to create waves in her hair. She'd always wondered how Ford had managed to get the perfect side part with a slight wave over the top and realized he'd found some sort of way to use his wand like a curling wand that Muggles used.

"Uhg, so much hair," Ford groaned as he worked through it.

"Ford what do you think about this shade of lipstick?" Tierra prompted, showing a deep scarlet.

"Girl, I told you that coral would look much more flattering. That's too dark for you," Ford replied, a twinge of annoyance in his tone as he glanced back at Beth and rolled his eyes as if he'd repeated himself so many times already.

"We've got about an hour until the dance," Mildred prompted, reminding them every 15 minutes as she checked the clock.

"Damn, I hope we're done in time," Ford muttered. "I still have to do your makeup."

Bethany twiddled her thumbs and wondered what and who she looked like. All of her confidence was put into Ford, who had a much better taste in fashion than she'd ever had. However, she didn't know who she was trying to impress now. Certainly it was Bill, it had always been Bill, right? But as Ford finished the glamorous waves in her hair and moved onto makeup, Beth was beginning to doubt whether or not she should be trying to impress Bill.

"There you go darling, now go take a look in the mirror... Just... don't touch your face, anywhere, don't touch it, all night," Ford warned her, helping her to her feet and bringing her in front of the floor length mirror that was inside their dorm.

The girl standing in front of Beth was very unlike how she ever imagined herself. Bethany Hiddleston always had a black headband in her hair and a rather clean and freckled face. Now, her hair was draped over one shoulder and in thick billowing waves, the deep side part unakin to the plain manners she typically wore it. Her face was still freckled, nose still small and upturned, but her eyes had a sweep of eyeliner that winged off the edges and her lips were coated in a full crimson pout. The off the shoulder dress complimented her height and clung to her in all the right ways.

Bethany thought she looked rather similar to a young pinup model with the Hollywood hair and makeup. "Ford... you did an amazing job," she had barely realized they were the last ones in the room, the other girls having gone out to meet their dates.

"I know," he said smugly, hands on the hips of his dress robes. "We're running a little late, so throw on your heels and let's skedaddle."

Beth slipped on the low heels, she was already tall enough as is and didn't need stilettos to make her appear gargantuan. She grabbed Ford's arm to steady herself, keenly aware that these shoes would be the death of her.

"How do girls wear these all the time?" she moaned as they hobbled down the hallway and into the common room, which was deserted.

"You better work it tonight. A lot of time and effort went into producing all of this," Ford informed her, clearly not caring that his best friend was going to have foot pain for the entire night. "Beauty is misery. Understand that? Good. Let's go. We're going to be the best looking couple there."

Fortunately for Beth, the Great Hall was pretty close to Hufflepuff's dorms. Up a flight of stairs and they were able to enter the hall. Students were already dancing to the music, whereas professors were standing off to the sides and chatting among themselves. The floor mirrored the night sky, seeming as if they would fall through space if they stepped upon the enchanted floor. Translucent drapes of midnight blue dressed with gold were hanging from the rafters, from which the light of the stars and candles could pierce. Though the effect was a considerably dimmer Great Hall, light winking here and there between the drapes.

A moon shaped table had bowls of pumpkin juice and other beverages. Small circular tables were situated toward the entrance for students to sit at for reprieve, though very few of them were occupied this early.

"Chin up darling," Ford reminded her. "Confidence is everything. You're radiant, show them all that you think so." Taking her hand from his arm he held it aloft as they approached the dance floor where the other bodies of students milled and spun to the lilt of a romantic ballad played by a small pit orchestra.

Guiding her, Ford embodied everything that Beth wished she possessed. He had confidence, pazzaz, and deflected snide comments as if he were impervious to their venom. For tonight, just tonight, she would try to be like him. Ford took the lead in their first dance, allowing for Beth to get a better grasp on how to dance in heels. After the second song, she was feeling a bit more confident in her movements. Dancing wasn't as much of an issue as the pair of shoes she was wearing.

"Do you mind if I cut in?" Ford was tapped on the shoulder and he rounded to see Charlie Weasley.

"No, be my guest," Ford stepped away from Beth and let Charlie in.

Where Ford's hands on her waist and holding one hand had felt comfortable, her skin immediately prickled as Charlie placed his hands in position. Heat was creeping up her neck and to her face, which she was thankful that it was so dim in the Great Hall that he probably couldn't see.

"You look amazing tonight, Beth," he told her earnestly, not helping to quell the blush that was spreading across her face.

"Thanks," she managed in a small voice, looking at Charlie fully for the first time. His dress robes were clearly old, perhaps a hand-me-down, but it didn't deter from his happy smile. "I hope you're not ignoring your date to dance with me. The night is still young."

"The night is still young," Charlie agreed. "And originally it was you I wanted to come with... Although I'm a bit glad I didn't walk in with you or else it would have been even more blatant that I've got my uncle's old dress robes on."

Beth snorted before she could stop herself. "They don't look that terrible, Charlie."

"And you're an awful liar," he retorted, spinning her around before his hand came to rest on her waist again. "I know they look dreadful."

"Attire doesn't make a person," she reminded him.

"It doesn't..." he agreed. "But it certainly brought out your best features tonight."

Beth was subdued into silence again as the fleeting normal moment they had was interrupted by the heat on her face. Why was he so smooth?

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" he asked her when she couldn't find words.

"Uh, no, not at all. I'm just not... accustomed to so much flattery," Beth admitted to her chagrin.

"Aha, I see," he said slowly before a grin crept across his face. "So I suppose I shouldn't tell you that I think your hair shines like spun gold or that your eyes are striking with the black of your gown... Black just like your fur when you're an Animagus."

"Charlie," she protested weakly, but somehow she liked hearing that someone liked looking at her.

"It's true, the moment you walked in with Ford, all eyes were on you. In fact, I'm kind of surprised that no one else has cut in."

"They're probably intimidated," Beth speculated.

"That would make sense. You do have an academic prowess that is daunting."

"I didn't mean me," she scowled.

"I'm not intimidating," Charlie chuckled. "So what did you mean?"

"I-" but she was cut off.

"Charlie, do you mind?" another flash of red hair and Bill was towering over his younger brother.

Charlie glanced up and steadied Beth before relinquishing his grasp on her, albeit regretfully. "Not at all," despite his kind words to his brother, Beth thought she spotted an envious glare in Bill's direction as they traded places.

Beth swallowed hard and glanced up at Bill, who had been given robes that were a bit newer than Charlie's. Even if he had been wearing the same ghastly brown robes, Beth didn't think it could detract from how handsome Bill was. Her heart fluttered in her chest, betraying the feelings that she had convinced herself would not do her any good.

"You look beautiful tonight, Beth," Bill told her, the second Weasley to have complimented her. Beth was half wondering if Percy would be next to step up to the plate.

"Thanks," she breathed, finding that words were a bit easier with Bill than they were with Charlie. But conversation didn't come as easy as she was keenly aware of where his hands were, how close she was to his chest, and the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"I should have asked you," Bill confided after they went through their first dance together, breaking the silence that Beth found to be stuffy and awkward.

"Asked me what?" Beth inquired uncomfortably.

"To the dance... I mean, thinking back on it, you were right about the Fire Making Spell being too difficult and a Freezing Spell made more sense in the heat of the moment. But I..." he glanced down at her, his eyes slightly ashamed before he glanced back up and over her head. "I'm sorry Beth."

Beth should have been leaping for joy, but a chill swept over her that chased all the warmth that Charlie had brought her out. "And what made you realize this?" her words were sharper than she had intended them to be.

"When you walked in tonight, I could barely believe that it was you. I guess I'm just around you so often that I never realized how pretty you were. Somethings I just took for granted and our friendship was one of them," Bill answered simply.

But that wasn't the answer that Beth was looking for. When the song ended she tugged away from him, much to his confusion. He had apologized and tried to make up for their petty grievances over the months. However, Beth was disappointed that it had taken her being all dolled up for Bill to realize she was a treasure. "I'm going to go rest, I've been dancing since I got here. You should probably go find your date," Beth told him, not waiting for him to say something as she turned on her heel and sauntering off toward the punch table.

Her temper only flared more as she saw the happy and puppy-love sick eyes of the other teenagers around her. Didn't they realize how stupid they all were? Some of those boys hadn't even batted an eye in their direction until now. Just because they were wearing pretty dresses and makeup. Fuming, Beth exited the hall and found herself striding outside into the main courtyard. It was cold, but Beth didn't care, her fury heating her arms and cheeks as she drew her wand and dusted off one of the stone benches.

It was all by appearance. Ford had worked so hard to make her beautiful and that was all people saw. Bill only confided that he should have asked her after seeing how striking she was at the dance. His apology was shallow and rather than placating her, she felt even more furious and defeated than before. Beth had wanted Bill to notice her because of how smart she was, not because of how pretty. If she was so pretty, how had he glossed over it all these years? She wasn't content with his answer and knew she never would be. His words had been foul and her previous ambition to be with Bill withered away. She wouldn't be with anyone because they thought she was a pretty face and recognized her worth when she put a dress and makeup on.

Pointing her wand at a statue she murmured, "_Draconifors_." The statue sprung to life and in the place of the gargoyle was a lime green dragon about the same size, small and young. The dragon mewed at her before it took flight and began flying circles around the courtyard, puffing little streams of fire to melt the snow on the awnings.

"Beth?"

Her hackles rose immediately and she turned her wand on the intruder, noticing that she was pointing it at a rather confused Charlie Weasley. Lowering her wand she glanced back at the tiny dragon she had transfigured. "Hm?"

"Aren't you cold?" Charlie asked, having shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers.

"A little," she admitted.

"Here, take this," Charlie removed the coat of his dress robes and draped it around her shoulders. "Why are you out here?"

"I... Just wanted to get some fresh air," which wasn't truly a lie. She didn't think it was appropriate to complain about Bill to his brother.

Charlie didn't press any further, sensing the radiating fury from Beth. Instead, he turned his eyes toward the dragon that was making circles around the courtyard. "Did you make that?" he questioned.

Beth nodded.

"I love dragons," Charlie confided in her, watching in amusement as the creature landed on a nearby roof, sending a pile of snow sliding to the ground in a heap. "Maybe one day I'll get to work with them."

"Work with them?" Beth repeated, finally turning her attention to him. "I know you love Magical Creatures, but dragons are so dangerous."

Charlie shrugged his shoulder nonchalantly. "I know, but I've always been fascinated by them. They're amazing creatures."

"I suppose they are... but just thinking about encountering them makes me nervous, let alone working with them everyday. Doesn't it take dozens of wizards to subdue even one?"

"Yup, but there have got to be people out there that do it."

"People who are just as mad sounding as you? I bet there are," Beth mused, wondering what kind of people thought dragon handling was a fun job. She supposed one of them was sitting right next to her at that very moment.

"Have you put more thought into what you want to do?" Charlie inquired.

"I want to become a Healer," Beth told him firmly. "I want to learn more at St. Mungo's, perhaps go on some foreign embassies to help with outreach programs or even Magizoologists who need a mediwitch to accompany in case of injury. Then I'll settle back down at the hospital when I've got my taste of travel or come and teach at Hogwarts."

"What made you make up your mind about it?"

Beth contemplated it for a moment before answering. "When you got hurt. I saw how Madam Pomfrey had healed your broken bones in a moment. I was so impressed that I thought my skills in Transfiguration and Potions would be best applied in a subject that requires adept skills in those areas."

"Well, I'm glad that me getting hurt benefit someone at least..." Charlie jested. "Although I never got to properly thank you. If you hadn't dragged me to the Hospital Wing, Bill would have had to."

Even the reminder of Bill made her bitter. Glancing away she rolled her shoulders in a lazy shrug. "He helped too, I just happened to be on the side of you where your arm wasn't injured. Dear Merlin, you're going to need a personal Healer when you begin working with dragons, I can only imagine what injuries you'll sustain there."

"They'll undoubtedly have a Healer wherever I work with dragons, although you could apply for the job too once you're a proper mediwitch," Charlie said hopefully, suggesting that their endeavors together continue after school.

"I don't know if I'm ready to work at a place with so many dragons," she said, slightly amused by Charlie's persistence.

"Just think about it, you certainly won't be bored. I bet there will be loads of people to heal."

"That's not what I'd hope for as a Healer," Beth grinned.

"Of course not... Though I do imagine it would get rather boring if there wasn't anyone to heal for a great amount of time," Charlie speculated. A moment of silence fell between them as they both glanced up at the dragon that had begun circling above them again. "Do you want to go back inside?"

"Just a bit longer out here, I think," she said, wondering if Charlie would speak up about being cold or return inside. But instead, he sat beside her and gazed up at the dragon as well. There wasn't a need to talk as the chill December air enveloped them and the din of the dance could be heard in the distance. These simple moments would be the ones they cherished during their lifetime, especially when darkness loomed on the horizon.

Time had disappeared and Beth found herself resting her head on Charlie's shoulder, complacent with her seat and the ebbing chill in her toes as they continued to watch the dragon. However, their time together was shattered as a silvery figure appeared at the opposite side of the courtyard.

Beth sat up erect and edged away from Charlie as she squinted, trying to see who it was. "Professor Dumbledore?" she said, wondering what could have drawn him outside and away from the merriment of the ball.

"Ms. Hiddleston," his gentle voice was astoundingly grave, to which Charlie and Beth both rose from out of their seats. "I need you to accompany me. I apologize for the timing, but it cannot wait."

"Uhm, of course professor," she turned back to Charlie, confused as to why Dumbledore would seek her out personally. Beth had spoken with him a few times before, but always with McGonagall there. She began to draw the coat off her shoulders to give it back to Charlie when he shook his head at her.

"Hold onto it for now," he insisted.

Beth pursed her lips and nodded, turning to face Professor Dumbledore who was in a fine silver robe that shimmered like starlight under the winter sky. His face was drawn, missing all semblance of its jolly twinkle and Beth felt worried as she followed him back into the castle, drawing the coat closer to her as she spotted students leaving the dance for the evening.

Down a long hallway and toward a gargoyle, Dumbledore paused to say, "Butterscotch," before a door slid open in front of them and they faced another set, from which they could hear voices behind.

Dumbledore opened the door and inside were a throng of Ministry wizards. Professor McGonagall was also there, her face white with shock, as Bethany drew inward with the headmaster. She wondered if this had something to do with her becoming an Animagus and if there needed to be such a crowd from the Ministry to prove it... But no, Dumbledore wouldn't have fetched her himself for something so trivial, nor would he have allowed it to happen on the night of the ball.

Unaware of what news they were about to deliver, Beth only knew that it was going to be bad.

"Bethany dear, you might want to take a seat," Professor McGonagall's voice was hoarse as she strained it, trying to keep composure as her prime student approached the desk where everyone was collected around.

"Why? What's going on?" Beth asked, her voice rising higher as she glanced between the faces of the wizards and then set them on a witch who was finely dressed in navy blue. She couldn't sit, instead she stared, her heart hammering as loud as a war drum.

"Ms. Hiddleston, my name is Millicent Bagnold, I am the Minister of Magic," the woman introduced. "I have heard a lot about you, but..." she cleared her throat and glanced to the wizards. It took Beth a moment, but she realized they were Aurors. "There has been... an accident."

"Call it what it was Millicent," one of the men beside her snapped irritably. He was an ugly man with a growling voice, his hair a greyed red and messy. He had one small dark eye, his other eye a vivid and electric blue, which was certainly magical unlike his normal eye. His wooden leg stumped on the ground and he glanced at Beth carefully, to which she noticed his nose was missing a chunk. "Her family was attacked."

"What?" Beth squeaked, expecting to feel lightheaded at the news, but as she paled, she found that she still had the strength to stand. "What happened? Where are they? Are they alright? Who did it?" she demanded fervently.

"Ms. Hiddleston... Ms. Hiddleston..." Dumbledore pressed, easing her down into the squishy chair that sat opposite of his own.

"I need to know professor! Are they at St. Mungo's? Can I go see them?"

"No, they're not," Millicent said uncomfortably, shifting her weight from foot to foot. "They all perished in the fire that consumed your house."

Beth opened her mouth to speak, but the horror was too great. Instead she snapped her mouth shut and glanced down at her palms, which had began to shake uncontrollably. Dead? The word was curious as she thought about it, almost as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing. Tears began leaking from her eyes as she thought of them. Her mother, trying so hard for Beth and Oliver to have the best things in life to survive, struggling to finish paying off their debts, to forge a new life. They had been so close to obtaining it, to finally getting over that last mountain as a family.

Then there was Oliver, her big brother, her first friend, her oldest friend. His life was smote, young and stolen. He'd never have a family, never be around for Beth when she had a family. She had always expected that they would grow old with houses near each other and they would joke in their letters that Oliver would never be able to get away from her.

Her father was the last that she thought of. A man that she had once feared growing up because of his violent outbursts and drinking. However, as she reflected upon is now, she wondered what had made him turn to the bottle to escape reality. These past five years he had been trying to recover their family and make up for all of his mistakes, to be the proper father he had never managed to be, and Beth had noticed it. Another life, simply gone for no apparent reason.

"How did it happen? How do you know it was magic and not an accident?" Beth finally asked, feeling a hand squeezing her shoulder reassuringly. But there was no reassurement, Beth had just become an orphan.

Millicent balked at Bethany and it was the strange Auror who stepped up again. "The source of the fire and the sealed doors. Your family tried to escape, but they couldn't. The doors had been magically sealed on them. We found this brooch at the scene as well," he reached into his cloak and withdrew a silver pendant that was in the shape of a serpent slithering through the eyes of a skull; the Dark Mark.

Bethany flinched at his words, thinking of the fear her family must have experienced trying to flee the house only to die of smoke inhalation before the fire reached them. "Who would have done this?" she whispered, inspecting the brooch in his hand.

"Followers of the Dark Lord, no doubt. They're still out there and upset that things didn't go their way. It's been a few years now and they're convinced he'll return, so they've been targeting the families of Muggleborn students at Hogwarts."

"They did this to other families?" Beth's voice became stronger with her disbelief as she looked to the Minister of Magic.

"Not successfully," Millicent admitted. "And we have suspects in custody."

"So my family was the first to die?" Beth's words were cold and hard as the truth that had been presented to her. She scrunched her eyes shut and tried to steady her breathing. She wanted to hug her mother, to tell her how much she loved her. Their last letters had been about the dance, which seemed so stupid in retrospect. "You knew they were targeting Muggleborn families and you weren't keeping an eye on those families? There aren't exactly a hundred of us."

Again, Millicent seemed deeply disconcerted by this and the Auror that had revealed everything to her was leering at her, as if he had suggested this to begin with. "It was an oversight. A most grievous oversight..."

"And oversight that killed my family," Beth snarled, her temper rising again as she felt a feral and dark urge. She wanted to rip apart the room, smash some of the whizzing silver trinkets on a nearby end table, to break the glass chalice in front of her. She had never felt an anger so terrible as she felt staring at the inept Ministry workers before her.

"We're sorry, we truly are," Millicent insisted.

"I don't want your apologies," Beth muttered sharply. "I want whoever did this to rot in Azkaban."

"Oh, they will. I'll make certain of that," the Auror told her.

"At least there's one person I can have faith in at the Ministry," Beth snarked viciously.

"We... we will need your attendance at the trial. You may be needed as a witness," Millicent continued as if she hadn't heard Beth's furious words.

"Whatever I can do to assist in putting them away," Beth said, waving her hand as she wanted the Ministry wizards to be gone so she could grieve without her temper rising.

"Very well... There is one more matter. Your father left this for you," Millicent drew an envelope out for her, to which Beth expected it was her father's will. She didn't expect that there would be much left to her, but was intrigued that her father had reflected enough to even bother writing one. After Beth accepted the letter, Millicent turned to Dumbledore. "Then we shall be on our way."

"Let me escort you out," Dumbledore said, rising from his seat so that he could follow them back into Hogwarts.

The semblance of collectedness that Beth possessed while in front of the Ministry crumbled like a sand castle being hit by the rising tide. A cry choked out of her throat and she clutched the letter in her hand tightly as the emotions ran over her. Professor McGonagall crouched beside her.

"Bethany... Oh Bethany..." McGonagall couldn't manage anything else aside her name as tears sparkled in her dark eyes and ran down her cheeks.

Bethany cried for what seemed like hours, unable to fathom how someone could be so cruel as to trap a family in a house and burn it down for the sake of their daughter being born a witch. Suddenly it all felt like her fault. Her family had become targets because she was a witch and followers of Voldemort wanted to make a point that Mudbloods such as herself wouldn't be tolerated.

She didn't even notice Dumbledore returning to his office as her eyes burned, devoid of any more tears to cry as she stared the phoenix that was perched beside his desk. The creature was absolutely beautiful, a shining gem in a dark world such as this. She had never experienced such evil until this day.

"Minerva... Could you leave us for a moment?" Dumbledore asked kindly.

Professor McGonagall gave him a haughty look through her red eyes, but relaxed after a solemn moment. She withdrew from the office and Bethany sank into silence as Dumbledore folded his hands in front of him and waited.

"Why them?" Beth asked him finally.

"I can only speculate why. You are an exceptional witch and come from a humble, Muggle family. Jealousy strikes me as primary motive along with hatred," Dumbledore reasoned gently.

"They didn't do anything. They could have targeted me, but they chose my family when I wasn't there."

"Yes, they preyed upon the weak. They hoped that this would break you, reduce you to the level they believe it suitable of someone of your birth," Dumbledore elaborated. "But I think they are mistaken."

"How?"

"In taking your family from you I do not think they weakened you. I could see it in the way that you questioned Millicent... You were vehement, ready to do anything to put the perpetrators to justice for what they had done. Ms. Hiddleston, you do not strike me as the type of person who would roll over and wither in the face of great tragedy."

"I... I don't know what to think right now," Beth admitted mournfully. "There's too many things... Like how I have no family or home to return to. That I'm alone now..."

"But that's not true, is it? You have many friends here at Hogwarts that love you dearly."

Dumbledore was right, but this hope was overshadowed by the great loss she was experiencing. "I... have to plan their funerals."

"That can be arranged with assistance," Dumbledore consoled. "But your reach is farther than just Hogwarts."

The door behind her flung open and when Beth turned to look, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were standing there. Molly's hair was flying around her as her eyes targeted Beth and her voice trembled, "Bethany."

Beth had always thought that Mrs. Weasley had been kind to her and her family, but she would have never expected her to come to Hogwarts on the night of her family's death. Beth had only managed to stand up when Molly Weasley had wrapped her in a tight hug and was rubbing her back in a comforting manner. She smelled of freshly baked bread and lemons. The resolve that Beth had managed with Dumbledore crumpled again and she was reduced to tears with Molly.

Mr. Weasley approached Dumbledore as Molly continued to console Beth.

"Moody informed me that they have Death Eaters in custody?" he murmured.

"They do. They will need Ms. Hiddleston at the trial over the holiday break," Dumbledore replied quietly.

"I'll bring her into the Ministry for the trial," Arthur nodded.

"Your family's kindness is appreciated in these dark times."

"Rebecca is... uhm... _was _good friends with Molly. And I know that Beth is close to Bill. She'll be safe with us."

"I know she is, she'll need the support of a family like yours Arthur... We also can give you a stipend to assist with the costs-"

"It shouldn't be a problem," Arthur interjected stubbornly

"You're going to come home with us, alright Beth? Dumbledore is having your things packed right now so that you can leave straight away," Molly said in a trembling voice as she tore away from the embrace to hold Beth's shoulders. "There's enough space in Ginny's room for you to stay."

Beth nodded, wondering how they could just take her under their roof without any qualms. She was so astonished by their sudden appearance and their kindness that it stirred her cold and depressed heart. For a fleeting moment, it felt as if she hadn't lost her mother completely as Molly held her close as if she were a daughter of her own.

"Are Charlie and Bill coming tonight?" Beth asked quietly.

"No... we'll have them come home on the train in a few days," Arthur had returned. "We want to get you settled in and comfortable before... Before they arrive."

"Alright," Beth said in a resigned voice as she glanced back at Professor Dumbledore. "Goodnight sir."

"Get some rest, Ms. Hiddleston. You will need your strength for these coming days," he said evenly before Beth departed with the Weasleys from his office.

Professor McGonagall was waiting with Beth's trunk outside of the office. She had collected herself, the remnants of her crying had all but vanished as she stood erect and inclined her head respectfully in the direction of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

"Are you taking the Floo Network?" McGonagall inquired.

"Yes, that should be the easiest method to get back," Arthur said, his voice heavy as he let out a low sigh.

"Very well, I believe Professor Dumbledore enchanted the fire down the hall for you to arrive, no?" McGonagall enchanted the trunk to float beside them as they hurried down the hall and into the office that Dumbledore had prepared to allow travelers through the fireplace, which was typically not allowed on Hogwarts grounds.

Upon approaching the fireplace she realized that she did not have her owl, Ser Gibblesworth. "I will send your owl to you at the Burrow, Bethany," McGonagall said, observing that Beth was glancing around for something that was missing.

Bethany wanted Gibbles there now, the one living creature that had lived with her family in Hampshire that still remained, but nodded feeling a deep exhaustion in her bones. She followed Molly and Arthur into the wide fireplace along with the trunk before they were sent spiralling through the chimney, forced to scrunch their eyes shut as they were teleported from Hogwarts across the country.

The three of them were crammed rather tight in the fireplace as the arrived at the Burrow and nearly fell out onto the rug. A young woman was sitting on the couch, clearly some sort of baby sitter, her eyes widening upon their arrival.

"Thank you Helen. We'll be all set from here," Arthur informed her, dusting off the knees on his shabby trousers as he seized the trunk.

"I only just got the twins down. Ginny and Ron have been asleep for a while now," Helen informed Molly who was helping Beth to the kitchen.

"Thank you Helen, we really appreciate you turning up on such short notice," Molly was trying to usher her out of the door, but the young witch was persistent on trying to tell her how the children have been, which Molly was a bit disinterested in at the moment. Once she had managed to get the woman out, she turned to face Beth who had taken a seat at the kitchen table. "Do you want a cup of tea?" she asked her gently.

"I wouldn't mind one," Beth murmured, unfolding the clutched letter and smoothing it on the table.

Molly nodded and turned away, distracting herself with the task of getting a kettle on the stove. Typically, Beth would be enjoying how homey the Weasley house felt and marveled at the mundane appliances they used for their everyday tasks rather than electric or gas based ones. However, she felt empty as she stared at the envelope, trying to will herself to open it. But there was a finality to it, as if opening it would be to acknowledge that they were never coming back.

The kettle began whistling and Beth raised her head, watching as Molly poured the tea and brought it over. Her brows furrowed for a moment as if it were the first time that she had seen the jacket that Beth was wearing. "Is that Char- Nevermind. Here are you are dear," she slid the steaming tea in front of her and brought over sugar lumps and cream for Beth to add.

Steeling herself, Beth lifted the envelope and broke the seal. Unlike those she received from wizards, there was no wax holding it shut, but just a piece of tape. Inside, written on lined paper, Beth found her father's final words.

"_Beth, if you're reading this, it means that... That I've passed on._

_I've written this come October of 1987. There have been strange men patrolling the streets and I know that they're wizard-kind... but not the good kind. I suspect that they're among those that have been targeting Muggle families, but I can only hope that my contacts can keep us guarded. I don't want to startle your mother or brother, because I fear it'll be worse if I tell them to leave. The Death Eaters will suspect something and attack._

_I wanted to put this on paper because this whole life that we've been living... Well, it's not been entirely truthful. I haven't been entirely truthful. And for a terrible father like me, that's probably not something you'd be astounded by. I haven't been the best, in fact I've only declined in my life. I'm a disappointment to my mother and myself. I am a Squib._

_Everyday after your birth I tried to drink away the thought that I'd borne a child with magic. I had come to accept that I was sublime, nothing spectacular, and had left that world behind me with a great amount of resentment toward it all. When you were born, I was holding you and you began burping bubbles. Your mother was asleep, but I couldn't believe it, nor could I bear it. _

_I resorted to alcohol, a cowardly path because I was a coward. I knew that eventually you would get your letter to Hogwarts, something I had wanted so badly growing up, but never received. It drove me to hate myself and my family. It was my fault you had magic, as I'd come from a magical family... And then your letter did come. Despite how miserable I always was, how terribly I treated your mother, and how I ignored you and Oliver... You were going to become a witch and a damn good one at that. Sitting in my house was a magical prodigy._

_It was hard to accept at first, but I came to terms with it and understood that I might not be a wizard, but I had to accept that my daughter had been given the chance to join the world I had been spurned from. Beth, I am so proud of you. I told your mother not to tell you, but I had every copy of Transfiguration Today sent to the house that had your articles in it. I admit, I don't really understand any of it, but you sound utterly brilliant and if me not having magic produced a daughter as capable as yourself, then I'd make that trade one hundred fold. I'm nothing special, but you are. _

_Drawing back on my life as a Squib... Your mother does not know and has never known, just as she has never met my family. I estranged myself from them in my teen years before moving to Whitchurch. I gave myself a new name and began a new life without magic, insistent on putting the past behind me. My mother was a very expectant woman and was ashamed to learn that she had produced a Squib. I was ridiculed by her on a daily basis and made to feel a fool for not possessing magic, which I had no control over. _

_Your grandmother's name is Beatrice Fawley. I have not spoken to her since I left those decades ago. If you need to, reach out to her, as I expect she would be willing to help a granddaughter with magical prowess. However, I must warn you that she is very proud and vain. She wanted the best from her children, which was why someone as mundane as I was, was no son of hers. _

_Beth, I hope that this letter never reaches you and I can tell you about your grandmother when the time is right. You must understand that even writing about being a Squib is painful as it brings back many terrible memories. My shame does not excuse my behavior for most of your childhood and I'm sorry I couldn't be the father I should have been. I only hope that in these last few years that I have managed to make amends as best I can. _

_Know that I love you,_

_Craig Eustace Fawley-Hiddleston_"

Tears were trickling down Beth's nose as she reread her father's last words. He had known something was coming and cherished the final moments with his family who were blissfully unaware of what was coming? She had never resented her father as he seemed to believe, but knew that there had always been something heavy weighing on him. Now that she knew, she couldn't believe that he had kept this lonely secret to himself for so long. How many years did he torment himself with the fact that he was subpar because he had no magic? Beth didn't think that Muggles were subpar because of that, but clearly his mother's words had destroyed him.

She stared at the name; Beatrice Fawley. Her father had not been fond of the woman, especially given how cruel she had been because he was a Squib. The idea of contacting her grandmother, at that point, was out of the question. Beth wanted nothing to do with a woman that had estranged her son and broke his spirit. Such a person wouldn't benefit Beth in a moment of need such as this.

Folding the letter, Beth clutched it tight and glanced at her untouched cup of tea. She wiped her tears from her eyes and felt a little bit warmer as she understood her father a little bit better. Even if it had taken his passing to find out, she felt as if he, her mother, and Oliver were standing right beside her.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**.

* * *

No one can prepare you for the loss of your family. Beth found it difficult to fathom as she went through different stages of grieving over the few days before the boys arrived for holiday break. Beth had spent her time trying to assist Molly in every way that she could, which mostly meant that she played dolls with Ginny and some wizards' chess with Ron. She was still trying to think of when a funeral would be held for her family and was considering waiting until after Christmas since there were only charred remains to be put to rest.

When Mr. Weasley went to get the boys, she could only have expected that he briefed them on what had happened and that Beth would be staying with them for the break. She hadn't even dwelled on their encounter or that she had left Charlie behind to accompany Dumbledore to find out the news on the evening of the ball. That night felt like ages ago and it was much easier to play chess with Ron and focus on the game rather than having to face reality. The momentary distractions were simply that; momentary. Her family was gone and she had to live with that fact every single day.

The door knob jostled and Beth glanced up from her game with Ron. All of the remaining children looked around to see who was entering. The game forgotten, Beth and Ron stood up to come around the sofa to go to the door. A knot formed in her stomach as the windswept Weasley boys entered, their shoulders dusted with fresh snow.

Their faces should have been excited to be home and for the few days left before Christmas, but instead they were varying. Bill's face was stern and serious. Charlie's face was worried and distraught. Percy was anxious.

"Beth..." Bill drawled, unable to find words that would suffice.

But it was Charlie that rushed forward without a word and pulled Bethany into a tight embrace. She didn't know she had been needing it. Where Molly's hugs had been motherly and warm, Charlie's offered her something else, something that she didn't know how to describe. She folded, leaning against him for support as her strength cracked and she was unable to hold back the tears again.

It barely occurred to her that much of the Weasley family was watching them. Only when she felt an arm against her leg did she pull away sniffling, glancing down to see that Ginny was hugging as high as she could reach. Seeing that she was only 6 years old and just high enough to reach her hips, Ginny's arms went around her legs.

Breaking away from Charlie, her face was blotchy from emotion. She bent down and picked up Ginny, who was smiling at her brother. "Why're you crying Beth?" Ginny asked her innocently.

"I'm sad," Beth admitted to her as she sat down at the kitchen table. Even though she was sad, part of her was glad to be surrounded by the support of all the Weasleys.

"It's about your momma, papa, and brother, right?" she asked perceptively, having overheard the conversation between Fred and George who had been persistent in finding out why Beth was there and where Oliver was (as they had become fond of Oliver and his antics).

"It is," Beth confirmed.

"That makes me sad too," Ginny sniffled, her eyes watering as she tried to fully comprehend the finality of death. She glanced over at her mother, who was hustling the boys in and closing the door behind them, chastising them for letting the cold air in.

"It's ok Ginny, it's ok," she pat the girl on the back, trying to make her feel better, but she was somewhat telling herself that it would be ok, even if it felt like there was no hope. Yet, as the Weasleys all settled down around the table for dinner, Beth's heart was warmed again. Even if the days playing with the children had seemed like just a distraction, it was just what she needed to recover.

The twins had trundled down from their room, hair flying as they grinned at their returned brothers. "Would you look at who dad dragged in," Fred commented, pulling his chair out to sit down.

"You guys look terrible," George noted, trying to glance out the window, but it was too dark to see if the weather was foul. "Is it storming outside?"

"Blizzard," Arthur said, hanging his jacket and hat on the rack, rubbing his chilled fingers together.

"Go put your things away and then come back down for dinner," Molly told the three brothers as she returned to look over the last preparations.

When they came back down the stairs, Beth had set Ginny on the chair beside her and since Bill was the first down the stairs, he sat to her right. Dinner was laid out in front of them, a heavenly aroma wafting from the feast that Molly had prepared as a welcome back from school. She had laid out a roasted chicken, a ham, stuffing, green beans in a butter garlic reduction, mashed potatoes, and rolls of bread.

"Seen any dragons lately, Charlie?" Fred prompted, beginning the first casual talk at the table, as if a dark shadow had been looming above that, stifling all conversation.

"Not yet, some Hippogriffs, but I haven't been lucky enough to see any dragons," Charlie admitted, sitting across the table from Beth.

"What about you Bill? You're in a higher class. I expect _you've _seen some dragons," Fred turned to his eldest brother.

"No, just a lot of review this year for my O.W.L.s," he admitted.

"Oh wait, I did sort of see a dragon," Charlie recalled. "Beth was able to transfigure a statue into a small dragon."

"_What?_ Really? I didn't know you could do that," Fred gasped, his attention now fixating on Beth. "Could you show us?"

"Fred, they can't use magic outside of school until they're 17," Molly reprimanded sternly.

"Maybe in a year," Beth grinned.

"I'll definitely remember," Fred insisted, grabbing another roll of bread.

"How are you feeling about your O.W.L.s.?" Arthur turned the subject back over to Bill, momentarily forgetting that Beth also would be taking them soon.

"Prepared, I'm not too worried. What about you Beth?" Bill turned his attention to her and for a moment, there was a little spark, the once friendly rivalry resurfacing after the awkward months since their fight.

"No, I think I'll be fine too, although my workload is considerably less than Bill's. I don't know how you keep up with it all," Beth mused, finally cracking a small smile.

"_Magic_," Bill quipped, drawing a few chuckles around the table.

"Have you thought about what you want to do when you graduate?" Molly asked Bethany, knowing that her son had already wanted to be a dangerous and daring Curse-Breaker (which she disapproved of, of course).

"I want to be a Healer," Beth informed her, but the words felt dry in her mouth, and the enticing sweetness it once had had vanished. She wanted to be a Healer before her family had been killed. What good was healing when people were dead? Still, the knowledge of how to heal could mean the difference between life and death...

"A very respectable job," Arthur Weasley pronounced.

"A very difficult job," Molly arched a brow. "St. Mungo's isn't for the faint of heart."

A wry smile warped the one that had been on her face. She pawed at her potatoes with her fork. "I think I can handle it," she told her and Mrs. Weasley seemed to remember abruptly that Beth was still coping with the death of her family.

"Does anyone need more pumpkin juice?" Molly asked loudly, her pale cheeks colored pink with embarrassment.

When dinner ended, Beth thought she might like to be alone and headed outside into the whirling winter air. Her hair snapped around her wildly and her hands were shoved deep in her pocket. Mrs. Weasley hadn't seen her go or she would have barred Beth from going out in such foul weather. But, it felt strangely liberating to be standing in the calf deep snow, the chill of Winter's grasp running its frigid fingers forlornly across her like a deceased lover.

Beth made it to the shelter of one of the trees in the garden and leaned against it from the wind, glancing back at the Burrow. The house made her smile, each of the curved windows lit, a haven in the bleak weather. It leaned precariously to one side as if the snow might cause it to topple over. However, magic held it up and its many rooms that had been stacked upon one another.

"Why in Merlin's pants are you out here?" the words sounded like they should belong to Molly, but it was Bill who was speaking. He had materialized beside her.

Beth had gone into one of her stupors, gazing but not seeing, as she dwelled on everything that had happened. She glanced up at him, he was also swaddled just a thickly as she was, but focused a narrow glare down at her. "Fresh air," she shrugged.

"Fresh air in a blizzard?" Bill asked in disbelief, but after a moment, he began laughing and leaned against the tree with her. "You know my mum will kill us if she finds out we went out in this weather."

"I'll take my chances... Your home is lovely, but I think Ron and Ginny have grown too fond of me and won't give me a moment of reprieve," Beth sighed.

"They are a bit taken with you. Ron was mad I got to sit next to you," Bill chuckled, the sound of the wind taking over the conversation between them. "Are you alright?"

A laugh as cold as the frozen breeze escaped her throat.

"Right... Stupid question," Bill drawled. "Is there anything I can do?"

"No," Beth told him tartly. She wasn't mad at him for the ball anymore. That seemed awfully petty when compared to the recent events that had transpired. She needed time on her own to think, to reflect. She felt lost and wondered if there could have been something different that she had done. She felt as if she was at war with herself and a deep self loathing had formed in her again. Her family had been targeted because of her and she wanted to make certain those that did it paid for their crime.

She had been a dandy fool, thinking she could laugh away her worries while she was at Hogwarts. Puppy love and crushes were trivial in the grand scheme and it took this tragedy to make her realize that her recent endeavors and pandering for Bill's attention had been childish. This couldn't happen again to anyone. Beth would make a vow to be certain that it didn't.

"If you do ever need anything, I'm here for you Beth. You're one of my best friends and this... I'm sorry that it happened to you."

His words were heartfelt, but Bethany drank them in solemnly. "It would have happened to someone," she muttered. Perhaps it was best that it had happened to her. Like Dumbledore had said, she wasn't the type to roll over and cower in the face of adversity. But she needed to reflect more, take a step back and really consider what she wanted to do with her life. "He's going to come back," Beth said gravely.

"He? The Death Eater that did this?" Bill prompted.

"No, Voldemort."

The name made Bill flinch. Beth had never felt the true sting of the name of the Dark Lord as those who grew up fearing it. "Do you really think so?"

"His followers wouldn't risk doing something like this if they didn't know more about it. They're rallying for him," Beth considered thoughtfully.

"But he died... When he cast the Killing Curse on Harry Potter, it backfired on him and killed him," Bill reminded her gently.

"Did it? I've read all that I could about him Bill. I was curious about the Dark Lord when you first told me about him. He knew many things Bill, things so terrible and evil that neither of us could fathom it. I think when he attacked Harry Potter, he was weakened, but I don't think he was killed... And the Death Eaters know that."

Bill reflected silently on her words before conceding. "Perhaps you're right... And if he returns then many more Muggle families will be in danger."

"I'll protect them," Beth promised.

"What? Beth you're only one witch."

"No one should have to bury their family. I don't want anyone else to go through what I'm going through," hot tears escaped the corners of her eyes, but the wind took them and the smears on her cheeks began to freeze immediately.

Bill turned toward her and she looked at him defiantly through her tears. He paused, uncertain of the grief stricken Beth that was standing in front of him, speaking as she had never spoken before. He pulled his hands out of his pockets and wiped her face with his mittens. "I thought you wanted to be a Healer."

"I want my family to not be dead Bill. I don't know what else I want aside from that. I'm a mess right now," she told him, her shoulders sagging in defeat.

"Well, I want to go inside. So why don't we start there? We'll be joining your family if we stay out here much longer and you won't be able to keep your promise," Bill suggested, cocking a warm smile at her.

"Alright," she nodded at him and they began hobbling back through their snow trenches toward the house. Before they entered, Beth glanced back at the snow capped tree in the blizzard and realized that the old, naive Beth had been left to die in the snow.

* * *

This Christmas had been the worst one in living memory. Not because she didn't get gifts, in fact Molly showered her in things she had hastily made over the last several days for Beth, as if the objects would distract her from the funeral that was looming ahead in a few days. Bethany was thankful for their hospitality and the best gift had been on Arthur's suggestion; Beth had been added to the family clock, a silver spoon with her face on it pointed to 'home' with the rest of the Weasleys. It made her feel accepted and wanted, as if she wasn't a burden on them, and that they really wanted her and they hadn't brought her in out of pity.

The funeral that followed was not as hard as Beth thought it was going to be. Certainly, it was the saddest day of her life, the closed caskets in front of her. They had gone back to the Catholic Church in Whitchurch to hold the ceremony, as her mother had been a devout Catholic. Many of the towns folk had attended, but what astounded Beth the most was the turn out from her classmates. Ford Gosling had been the first to arrive on site, insisting that he followed Beth everywhere. She got to meet his mother and learned finally that Ford's father had been killed by Death Eaters some years ago in the First Wizarding War. He had been an Auror.

Then there were the rest of the Hufflepuffs in her year, her roommates Mildred, Tierra, and Cayenne along with their families. Penny Haywood and Nymphadora Tonks were also among the number. Nearly all of her professors came aside from Professor Snape. It was strange to see them in more casual wizarding attire, but the appearance of all these queerly dressed folks had startled the priest who gave the sermon and last rights. He had probably never seen a more curious crowd for a wake and for some reason, that made her smile in lou of it all.

Most importantly, the Weasleys sat with her as if they were her own family. Everyone came to the burials the next day, laying the closed caskets to rest in the Whitchurch graveyard in a row; Craig, Rebecca, and Oliver. People were crying around her, but most of them were there for her, not them. They had never met her family. And yet, Beth had shed so many tears that she could not shed another. Instead, she stood over the graves after they had been covered and stared, wondering if they had gone to Heaven with God. She fancied the idea, it was much better than thinking there was nothing after death. She decided to take a rosary with her back to the Burrow along with a Bible.

And then the day snuck up on her halfway through the winter break. The day of the trial. Her time had often been occupied by the youngest Weasleys as she didn't know how to tell them no, but when Molly had wrestled them away she contemplated for long hours. She wanted to look the Death Eaters in the face, show her contempt and satisfaction that they were going to Azkaban. She wanted to show them that she wasn't broken by their actions and she would press on and be their demise when she came of age. Her hatred was so strong and vile, that it motivated Beth to keep on her studies and begin focusing more on Defence Against the Dark Arts. While she wasn't allowed to cast magic outside of school, she found herself asking Bill a lot more questions about duelling.

"Watch your step there Beth, they still need to fix that stone," Arthur Weasley sighed, pointing to a broken black tile as they walked into the Ministry.

Darting around it, she flanked Mr. Weasley closely, scanning the Ministry of Magic as they came upon the outer entrance. Witches and wizards were milling in all sorts of directions, above them little notes of paper were sailing around instead of owls.

"How do you do, Arthur?" a security wizard was sitting at a podium that allowed workers in. "Who's this you've got with you? Not one of yours I see."

"Not too bad. No, no, this is Bethany Hiddleston. She's here to attend a trial on behalf of the Minister of Magic," Arthur informed him. "Beth, give him your wand, they have to inspect it before they'll allow you in and give you a badge."

"What trial?" the wizard asked.

Arthur fished in his pocket clumsily before retrieving a crumpled piece of parchment. "It's uh... this one, in courtroom 10."

"Oh, _that _one," the wizard glanced at Beth as she offered him her wand, a new piece of golden silk tied to it that had been a gift from Bill. He placed it on a scale and then blinked, shaking his head. "Nasty work. Careful, they've brought the wardens from Azkaban to the trial, not going to be pleasant."

"I'm not surprised," Arthur sighed, tucking the note back into his pocket.

A piece of parchment printed from the scale and the wizard held it up, his brows furrowing at the information. "12", Sweetgum, Simurgh Feather core? What's a Simurgh?"

"A phoenix-like bird native to the Middle East," Beth said tartly, extending her hand for her wand.

"Didn't know they made wands out of that, weird," the guard commented before picking up a badge that had been deposited in a receptacle. He gave her her wand back and then the badge before letting the gate open.

"Thank you Hector," Arthur bid as Beth slid the badge over her head and the letters shifted on it, clearly stating her name. She shoved her wand back into her pocket and then kept close to Arthur as they dove into the sea of Ministry workers.

Arthur was greeted left and right by people he knew, one of which Bethany recognized. The scraggly Auror that had been in Hogwarts with the Minister was thumping toward them, his electric blue eye whizzing around in its socket.

"Moody, how are you?" Arthur greeted pleasantly.

"As good as I can be in this awful place," Moody snapped irritably, glancing down at Beth who flanked the Weasley. "Chin up girl, the Death Eaters can smell weakness."

"I'm not afraid," Beth told him sternly.

Moody eyed her for a moment and then he snorted. "No, I suppose you're not, are you?" he then turned his attention back to Arthur. "It's going to be a big trial. The Wizengamot has gotten together for this one."

"But I thought it was cut and dry, a closed case," Arthur's brow furrowed and Beth didn't like the look of that.

"It is, I can swear on that," they were approaching a lift. The moment that people saw Moody, they evacuated the lift for him and they were left alone in it. "I think the Minister is trying to make a point, though a little too late. Everyone has gotten so complacent since the Dark Lord's fall that an air of leniency has been allowed. That's why this blunder happened in the first place. No... she's trying to make sure that this trial gets the utmost attention and that these Death Eaters are made out to be outliers among their own kind."

"But they're not," Beth said, interrupting their conversation.

"You-Know-Who is defeated," Arthur reminded her gently.

"I don't think he is. Where's his body if he's defeated? It was never found," Beth pointed out hastily.

"I like how this one thinks. It's all in the proof," Moody agreed. "I've thought much of the same, but I haven't got much basis to go off of. Better keep your mouth shut kid or else people will start to think you're paranoid like me."

The Auror's presence deterred anyone else from stepping into the lift and they were able to reach level nine in what Arthur claimed was 'a record amount of time'. The corridor was long and dark, Beth only knew this was the Department of Mysteries because the voice in the lift had announced it. However, they turned to the left and followed a staircase to level ten, where the trial was to be held.

Chatter rolled out through the open doors and there was an astounding amount of company crammed into that room. Beth was startled that the event had drawn so much publicity and they were stopped at the door by two wizards asking their business.

"We're here for the ruddy trial," Moody snarled.

"Isn't everyone else? You're good to go through Moody, we need to know their business," one of the wizards said gesturing to Beth and Arthur.

"That's the blasted daughter of the victims. Let her through you indignant codswallop," Moody snapped, causing the wizard to balk and pale.

He said nothing and let them pass. Moody led the way, thumping through the courtroom to a row in the front that had been left open for them. He let Beth and Arthur sit down first.

Her eyes searched the round courtroom. The walls were dark stone and in the centre of the room were two chair covered in chains. The stands rose in a high arc all along the wall and to the right, Beth noticed a large group of wizards and witches in plum robes. Immediately, her eyes went to the striking blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore, who was sitting among them. Dumbledore seemed to feel the heat of her gaze and turned, giving her a small, but reassuring nod.

"That's the Wizengamot," Arthur informed her, noticing that she was staring.

"I remember... The acceptance letter said Dumbledore was in the Wizengamot," she recalled, the hazy memory such a distant memory. Those were simpler times. A time when her family had been alive.

"He's the Chief Warlock. A very important position," Arthur said, wringing his fingers together nervously.

"Please rise for the entrance of the Minister of Magic, Millicent Bagnold," a shrill voiced wizard announced, drawing the conversation to a head. Everyone rose from their benches, including the Wizengamot, and the Minister entered through the doors with a pair of guards. She was wearing a set of dark blue robes again, similar to those that Beth had met her in. She took her seat in front of the Wizengamot, not too far from the court scribe, before nodding to everyone to take their seats.

Beth fell back down in her seat and waited anxiously for the trial to begin. It felt like a minute spanned hours as a dumpy looking wizard stood in his plum robes and cleared his throat.

"Today, December 31st, 1986, we stand the trial of Gilbert Mann and Carver Crane, for the suspected act of Murder in the First Degree of a Muggle family in Whitchurch, England. Please bring the defendants out," his eyes turned toward a small door against a wall where there were no stands. Beth's mind reeled at one of the names of the Death Eaters; Crane? As in Laurel Crane? There was no mistaking it.

The moment the doors flung open a chill spread across the crowd and Beth felt all happiness drained from her. The effect was felt by everyone as floating creatures brought two men forward. Cloaked in inky black swaths, the wardens hovered forward, dead scabby hands revealed as they gestured for the prisoners to keep moving. Their faces were hidden by shadowy cowls and Beth knew in that moment that she never wanted to get close enough to look upon their faces.

"Blasted dementors," Moody growled quietly beside them as they glided in with a terrible grace.

The two men were attached to the chained chairs before the dementors exited through the door for them to stand trial. A split second after they departed, the entire courtroom heaved a breath they had all been holding, discomfort clear on everyone's face as they tried to warm their cold fingers and chase the awful thoughts away that had been elicited upon their arrival.

The dumpy wizard glared down at the men. "Mr. Mann and Mr. Crane, you sit here today in front of the wizarding community, accused of Murder in the First Degree. This atrocious act was committed on the eve of December 18th and took the lives of three Muggles; Rebecca Hiddleston, Craig Hiddleston, and Oliver Hiddleston. They were the family of a 5th year student at Hogwarts, Ms. Bethany Hiddleston, who is in attendance today. How do you plead?"

One man, the one with dark hair, simply gazed at the floor without speaking. However, the second with lighter hair gave a wild grin and glanced around the courtroom. Somehow, he was able to find Beth, perhaps because she had her father's hair and mother's eyes. "I say death to all Mudbloods and their dirty families. You should have heard them crying for help, banging on the doors, trying to escape. But. They. Couldn't," he took great pleasure in this, as cries of shock and disgust rang out among the stands.

Beth leveled her eyes at him, glaring at him with such venom and hate, that his smile only grew wider. She would not show him her sorrow, he would not see her cry. She had steeled herself for this. He would get no satisfaction from her reaction.

"How do you plead?" the wizard prompted again.

"Guilty! Guilty! We did it and I'd do it again in a heartbeat," the same man howled in amusement. "Come on Mann, the dementors aren't here. We're doing our Lord's work. He'll be back, he's coming back!"

The dumpy wizard glanced at the rest of the Wizengamot. He seemed to have been under the presumption that they would be having a normal trial and be presenting evidence and key witnesses. However, Crane was keen on proclaiming that they had done it.

"Guilty," Mann agreed, though he still wasn't as jubilant as his counterpart.

"See her there. She's right there Mann, right in the front," he nodded in the direction of Beth.

"Then it is decided. The defendants have plead guilty and will be sentenced-" the Minister was making an announcement, but Beth's attention waned as she was only fixated on Crane.

"Pretty like her mum was. When the Dark Lord frees us, I think I know just where I'll go," Crane continued, oblivious that he had just been sentenced to life in Azkaban without possibility of parole. It didn't seem to matter.

His delight was drained away as the dementors swept back in, adjourning the trial as quickly as it had started. However, Beth thought it was peculiar how one circled around Crane and then- She could imagine their cries, pounding against the door as they tried to escape the creeping fire. Images of her crying in Dumbledore's office careened in front of these nightmares and-

"Keep damn control of those wretched creatures!" Moody was shouting as Arthur was propping Beth back up. She had fallen from her seat, dazed and weak.

"Beth? Beth can you hear me?"

"I... Uhg, what happened?" she asked slowly.

"The dementor attacked you," Arthur said in a low voice, shouting could be heard around them as the creature had been deterred backward by a silver spectre that was spilling from the tip of Moody's wand. A bulldog prowled in front of their stands and was curling its lip just as nastily as the Auror.

"What? Why would it- Ergh," she got back onto the seat and felt as if all of her energy had been sucked from out of her.

"Ms. Hiddleston, please take this," Professor Dumbledore had crossed the courtroom as the prisoners were escorted out, Moody dispersing the bulldog of light. He offered her some chocolate. "Eat it all, it'll make you feel better." Dumbledore took a seat beside her as other nervous occupants of the room began to leave, some mumbling about how the trial hadn't been nearly as exciting as they had been hoping.

Nibbling on the chocolate that she had been offered, Beth remained in her seat, wondering what spell Moody had used to fight back the dementor. She had never witnessed such a spell before.

"Would you mind giving me a moment with Ms. Hiddleston?" Dumbledore asked of Arthur.

"Of course," Arthur sputtered, giving her one more glance to make certain she was recovering, before he stood up and followed Moody who was thundering out of the room, in an even fouler mood than when he arrived.

Waiting until Beth had finished at least half of the chocolate bar, Dumbledore spoke, "You did well today."

Beth shrugged her shoulders at him. "I prepared myself for today."

"You do not fear the man who killed your family?" he asked, trying to glean what was going on inside of Beth's mind.

"No... After seeing him I saw what madness was, what the inability to think for yourself was. He was smitten with Vol- You-Know-Who. He's a sheep and for some reason... I pity him," Beth said, stuttering on the Dark Lord's name.

"You can speak his name with me," Dumbledore informed her. "And yes, I too pity those Death Eaters that are so fanatical in their worship of Voldemort that they have lost all identification of themselves, turned into nothing but mindless dogs. But I saw something else in you today... Defiance and hatred."

Beth twiddled the wrapper of the candy bar. "It's natural to hate him, isn't it?"

"It is... but holding onto such anger will not benefit you. You are a very passionate person, Bethany, I have noticed that in every hurdle you tackle. I know it may not be my place to say so, but you will have to let go eventually."

"I... I have accepted their deaths if that's what you mean, sir."

"And you do not blame yourself for it?"

Her cheeks burned at this question and she needn't speak for him to get his answer.

"It is a terrible thing... To blame yourself for something you had no part in. Survivor's guilt they call it."

"They were killed because I'm Muggleborn. They would still be alive if I wasn't a witch," Beth told him tartly.

"I know... but that could have happened to anyone, could it have not?"

"It could. From our last conversation sir, I actually appreciate that it happened to me and not someone else at school."

"Why is that?" Dumbledore's brows rose in mild interest.

"Because of what you said... I don't think everyone could have looked in the face of their family's murderer and swore that they'd go on to try and rid the world of people like him. I think many others would have admitted their defeat and succumbed to their misery," Beth explained, finally speaking her thoughts and dwellings aloud to someone. "I'm glad that it happened to me because no one else should have to suffer like this. I can recover... it'll take time, but I know I'll make it."

A sad smile touched Dumbledore's lips at her words. "You are a brave young lady. I know you are also incredibly intelligent and so I ask you, what did you think of the trial today?"

She sighed and glanced down at the two chairs. "I don't know what I was expecting, obviously not an apology but... I think what surprised me the most was his name. Is he related to Laurel Crane?"

Dumbledore pursed his lips. "Yes, he is the elder brother of Ms. Crane."

Beth closed her eyes and recalled the threat Laurel had made before the ball. Before, she had simply laughed it off and thought little of it. Did Laurel know that her family was being targeted by her brother? Was Laurel at home laughing right now at the thought of them being slaughtered? She tried not to dwell on it, she didn't need her tempers rising again. "I think... I needed to come here. Even if what he said was awful. And I think that he's right about Voldemort. He's going to return."

Dumbledore did not speak on this topic and silence broke out between them. "What are you going to do with this knowledge?"

"I'm going to use it sir, use it to help people. I don't want this to happen again and I'll do everything I can to stop it," Beth insisted, thinking back to the dementors. "Professor, what did Moody use to push back those dementors?"

"Hm? The Patronus Charm?"

"Is that what it's called?"

"It's an especially tricky piece of magic. Although," he paused to level a smile at her, his eyes twinkling from beneath his half-moon glasses. "I believe you should be able to master it if you asked Professor McGonagall to teach you when you return to school."

"I think I'll do that," Beth announced, standing up and crumpling the wrapper to the candy in her hand before shoving it into her pocket. "Thank you, professor. I should go find Mr. Weasley though."

"You should," Dumbledore agreed, his plum Wizengamot robes rippling as he stood up as well to bid her farewell.

Beth started toward the door, but paused to look back at her headmaster. This was the beginning of the new Bethany Hiddleston. A stronger, more focused, woman. Her vows rang in her ears and they were not empty. She meant them. And she knew that her quest also meant that there wouldn't be time for romance. There were more important things at hand and the lives of the innocent came before her own feelings. She needed to prepare for the day that Lord Voldemort did come back.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven.**

* * *

Bethany Hiddleston became hyper focused upon her return to Hogwarts. Many peers had been expecting her to be a shell of her former self, still recovering from the terrible loss of her family. However, Beth did not pity herself. She knew in her heart of hearts that her family walked beside her each day and that their deaths would not be in vain and nor would she wither away and be broken by it. Committed to being the best witch that she could be, she approached McGonagall about the Patronus Charm and worked at until she mastered it. Beth's new found confidence and prowess startled her friends, this coming of age was queer and not the girl they had known before the holiday break. But that girl was no more. Small traces of the old Beth was there, the black headband, the unfocused stares as she fell into the trenches of her own thoughts, but she did not worry about how she looked or trying to win Bill over.

Beth made it clear to everyone that she had more important things to focus on than a teenage romance. Her ambition and determination was all she needed to survive for now. When the O.W.L.s. came, Bethany spent countless hours perfecting her Patronus Charm, achieving a corporeal form for her Charms test. She had many skills to show, to prove that she was an adept witch of exceptional talent. While the proctorers were impressed, Beth's head remained on her shoulders. This was all a means to an end, not a competition with other students. Although, she couldn't help but poke a Bill from time to time as she spent Saturdays learning how to duel with him.

The summer came and went with the tides and when Beth received her results along with Bill, it was revealed that she had made Outstanding marks in Potions, Transfiguration,. Charms, Herbology and Defence Against the Dark Arts. The rest were Exceeds Expectations in Care of Magical Creatures, Astronomy, and History of Magic. She intended on dropping Astronomy, but keeping History into N.E.W.T.s. level classes so that she was well rounded in a wealth of wizarding knowledge. Time did not slow the rate at which Beth moved and into her 6th year, she still startled the other students by her mettle. A running joke among her and friends was that she should have been placed in Gryffindor because of this audacious perseverance. But Beth knew that this drive was also an obsession and it was changing her, causing her to drift away from others. Only the Weasleys and Ford Gosling truly remained close and able to pick her brain about her thoughts, though it wasn't often that they tried to deter her.

By the time graduation came around, Beth knew that the marathon was not yet over and enrolled to work at St. Mungo's. She had formulated that there was a long path of learning she needed to take and thus, began learning the intricacies that went into making a Healer a Healer. Her ambitions did not end in remaining a mediwitch forever.

* * *

It was a fine afternoon on the summer before his 7th year. Charlie was in an exceptional mood as he went into town, looking for the local shop that had been described to him in a letter from Bethany. He missed her desperately, his feelings toward her not waning over the years, even though she had made it clear to everyone that she had some sort of mission she needed to accomplish. Charlie admired her for her focus and knew that it wasn't his place to try and force himself into a relationship with her when she wasn't ready. However, he hadn't seen her in more than a year.

Ever since she graduated, she and Bill had become difficult to get a hold of. Letters were exchanged, but they were both very busy. Bill had moved to Egypt to work for Gringotts and Beth was enveloped in her studies as a mediwitch. His mother was rather sad that they both couldn't be around often, as Beth had become like a second daughter since the death of her family. She had spent holidays and summers at the Weasley house, sharing a bedroom with Ginny. Ginny and Ron were also a bit hurt that Beth and Bill were vacant from their lives, as both had taken the time to give the youngest attention.

Excitement bubbled in him as he strolled through town, his hands in his pockets. Ottery St Catchpole was a very small village in Devon, England. It wasn't too far from the Burrow and really only had a few main buildings aside from the dwellings of locals. Being that there weren't a lot of shops, Charlie only had a few to choose from, and he didn't need to reference his letter again to find the shop called, Herbert's Herbal Brews.

The bell tinkled angelically as he opened the door and the smell of freshly baked pastries and tea greeted him. Charlie glanced around, looking for the golden hair of Bethany Hiddleston, only to find himself wondering if he had arrived early. He turned to his watch, but saw that he was, in fact, five minutes late. Beth was extremely punctual.

"Charlie, over here!" a young woman was waving at him, gesturing for him to come over to her small table which was located in a booth.

His heart caught in his throat at the sight of her. There was a reason that he hadn't recognized her at first and it was because of how much she had changed. Beth's hair wasn't golden anymore, but glinted like pale moonlight in the dimness of the cafe. The long locks had been shorn short, rendered into a bob that framed her face and barely dusted her shoulders. Her trademark black headband was still perched on her head as it always was, but there was a more roguish look to her, one that Charlie had never seen before.

Beth's hazel eyes were striking and feline-esc, dancing above her freckled nose which was a shade fairer than he recalled. She wore a beaten leather coat, tight black trousers, and a white button down blouse. On the lapel of her coat was a Healer pin, a silver bone crossed with a wand. But her hair wasn't the only troubling thing about her. Beneath Beth's eyes were dark circles and she seemed a bit thinner. However, in spite of these changes, she was vibrant and full of life.

"I didn't recognize you," Charlie admitted honestly, hugging Beth as she stood up to greet him.

"I'm not surprised," she sighed, reaching up to touch her shorter hair, the ends flaring out and away from her. "It turned white with stress."

"Stress? Is St. Mungo's that stressful? Perhaps I should go there instead of taming dragons," he jested, taking a seat across from her.

"That's not why it turned white," Beth smirked, tapping her fingers on the table.

"Is it going to be like that... forever?" he knew it probably would, but he was sad to see that her golden tendrils were gone. It was jarring to see it ivory and shorn short.

"I'm afraid so. I did try to use a potion, although it sizzled the ends of my hair and I had to cut it off," she gestured to it again. "But enough about me. Are you excited about your last year?"

"A bit..." Charlie admitted, but he was still curious about her. "What did cause it to turn white then?"

The corner of Beth's lips quirked up in a sort of half smile. "Let's get a round of coffee and some food first," she turned her head around and flagged down one of the staff to put an order in. Once she had, she turned back around to grin at Charlie. "I had a lot of things to study for. It turned white from me fretting about my exams."

"Your exams to become an official mediwitch? Congratulations are in order by the looks of it," he motioned to the pin on her lapel.

Beth glanced down. "Oh no, this? No it wasn't for this. Ahem... Actually, I took the Aurors exam," she informed him.

Charlie's mouth dropped open and then he snapped it back up, his mind reeling. "You took the Auror exam?"

Excitement overcame her as she nodded eagerly. "Yes and I passed!"

Charlie should have shared in her excitement, he really wished her could have, but he had been happy to think that Beth would be safe in St. Mungo's helping people all these years. He fished for words, but none were coming. Instead, the server came by with coffee and some tea cakes. "Uh, I don't know what to say."

"Maybe congratulations for that? The Auror exam was a great deal harder than becoming a Healer," Beth suggested in good spirits, picking up her coffee and drinking it straight and black.

Charlie fumbled for the cream and sugar, his heart pounding in his ears. Who was this strange witch in front of him? She barely looked like the Beth that he knew and had fallen in love with all those years ago. "If anyone could do it, it would be you Beth... but why?"

The whimsical expression slid off her face and her eyes became perceptive and sharp. Charlie thought for a moment that he saw slitted cat pupils instead of circular ones as she leered at him. "I have a mission," Beth informed him curtly. "I've been focused on it ever since the death of my family."

"But I thought you wanted to be a Healer, to help people," Charlie entreated.

"I do want to help people, but sitting in a hospital isn't the way to do it. I went to St. Mungo's to become adept at healing magics. Then I moved onto become an Auror. I can help many more people as an Auror, preventing dark wizards from tearing apart anymore families," she paused, narrowing her eyes so that she could attempt to read him. "You're not... happy?"

Charlie pursed his lips. There were so many things he wanted to say, but he'd kept his mouth shut for all of these years so that Beth could go down the path that she wanted. Had he known that it would lead here, he might have spoken up. "An Auror though? I never imagined you as an Auror, Beth."

Beth's hair fluffed up around her like a cat whose hackles rose. "Why not?" she asked him sharply.

"Not because you aren't talented enough but..." Was he going to say that she didn't have the temperament for it, because that clearly wasn't true. "You've changed," he realized.

Her hair deflated and a wry, cynical smile twisted up her lips. Beth reached across the table and put her hand on top of his. "I have," she agreed, the rising anger had depleted and she was speaking to him gently. "I've been changing ever since my family died. I swore to Bill... I swore to Dumbledore that I would protect people from a fate like mine. Not everyone can get back up after what I experienced. I couldn't go back to being the sweet little Hufflepuff I had been before."

Charlie placed his hand over hers, his rough palms dwarfed hers, and deep in his soul he knew that the Beth he had been so in love with growing up was only there in the woman's face that was staring at him affectionately. He still loved her, but perhaps not in the way that he always had. "I always did admire how strong you were."

"Perhaps I'm a little too strong now," she suggested with a small smile.

Charlie noticed that around her neck there was a red beaded necklace from which a cross swung. "What's that?"

"Hm?" she glanced down at it and drew her hand back so that she could lift it. "This? It's a Rosary."

"A Rosary? It's not magic is it?"

"Oh no, it's a religious item. I, uh, began going to Catholic church after I left school. I don't know, it makes me feel closer to my family and gives me a sort of peace of mind," she told him, admiring the cross on which a man was nailed.

Charlie suppressed a sigh and wondered what would happen now. Part of him had been hopeful that one day he would begin seeing Beth in a romantic manner, but it seemed the older they got, the more their paths diverged. "So, you've gotten a job with the Ministry," he started. "Do you know where you're going to be posted or what you're going to do?"

"From my understanding, I am going to spend some time in Dublin tracing some leads," Beth told him. "Where are you going to be applying to? I know there's a dragon sanctuary in Wales."

"I was actually looking at the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary," Charlie told her,

"Really? That far?"

"It's Europe, nothing is too far. It's a bigger sanctuary than the one in Wales, more opportunities to study more dragons," Charlie grinned at the thought of it. Momentarily, he was distracted by the fact that his paramore was no more. "Plus, it'll be far enough that mum will be out of my hair. I love her to death, but Merlin's pants she's overbearing."

"Aw, I love your mother," Beth told him. "She has been heckling me to visit though..."

"And you haven't," Charlie reminded her lightly.

Beth heaved a sigh. "I know, I know, but I couldn't be distracted. And don't make it seem like I'm the only one. Bill misses holidays too."

"Bill is in Egypt. You're in London," Charlie pointed out.

"Yeah well if I told Molly that I'd become an Auror, she'd kill me."

"I'm of a right mind to do so myself."

Beth cocked a somewhat arrogant smile at him. "Could you?"

Could he? Maybe if she wasn't looking. He was a talented wizard, but Beth was an Auror now. She had passed the rigorous tests to join the elite of the Magical Law Enforcement. Additionally, she could turn into a very large predatory feline, he wasn't fond of the idea of coming face to face with a jaguar.

"That's a bit beside the point, isn't it?" Charlie chuckled, heat creeping up the back of his neck under her hazel gaze. "Are you going to come by for Christmas this year?"

"I'm going to try, but duty dictates where I'll be. I think they're going to put me undercover, so I'm not sure if I'll be able to," Beth admitted honestly. "Today is actually my only day off."

"And you're spending it with me?" Charlie was a bit taken aback by this and warmed at the same time.

"For now," she smirked before glancing at her watch. "But I do have another appointment after this. Will you give my word to the rest of the family? I should be able to write you all, keep you updated on what's going on." Now she was fishing Muggle money out of her pocket.

Charlie went to reach for some but Beth waved him away. "Don't worry about it. Save you money for school," she insisted. "I invited you here anyways," she stood up and her pale hair ruffled in the still air of the cafe.

When Charlie stood, they were level, eye to eye, although Charlie was considerably more muscular than Beth, who was lean and slender. She had lost her soft curves and replaced it with sinew, her athletic build more apparent now that he was getting a better look at her.

"Don't get into any trouble this year. It's your final year there," Beth told him.

"That's a warning you should be giving the Twins, not me," Charlie grinned as he pulled her into an embrace again. Part of him was hoping that when he released her that the old Beth would be standing in her place. However, when they parted, it was the vivacious and pale one that was giving him an affectionate look.

"I'll... see you whenever the wind blows us back together," Beth told him as they headed outside.

"Right... Whenever that will be," Charlie mused as she rounded a corner and with a loud 'pop' she disapparated. He stared at the spot where she had been and heaved a sigh. Had he really expected Beth to never grow up, to remain kind and sweet for her entire life? There had always been a fire in her that would show up periodically and now she wore her spots proudly. He couldn't fault her for wanting to make the world a better place, but he was worried. Worried that she would get hurt in such a dangerous occupation. But who was he kidding? He wanted to be a Dragonologist.

* * *

'Dear Beth,

September 23rd, 1990

You wouldn't believe the tombs that we explored here today. I mean, the heat is usually unbearable, but the work keeps me going. I've had my fair share of surprises on the job thus far, but I can't believe that there are still so many booby traps inside the pyramids. You would have thought that Curse-Breakers had long cleared out these tombs, but they just keep going and going.

Today, we came across a tomb that had a reanimated mummy. It ended up only being a zombie, but it's the first time anyone had seen one. For the most part, Vampire Bats are the only living thing we cross here. Of course, I always utilize my Freezing Charm to disengage them. Fire is too risky in the narrow tunnels, especially if there's a colleague in front of you. Anyways, the mummy was impervious to most spells. Part of the tunnel had to be collapsed in order to incapacitate it. When we cleared the rubble, it was in pieces and still moving around, but at least we could take it piece by piece to a safe spot to study it.

The mummy had been guarding a pharaoh's tomb, which has more booby traps, but we intend on taking that task in stride. For now we're still dealing with the mummy in case we cross anymore. Collapsing tunnels is not a good way to fight them, as we'll continue to weaken the infrastructure of the pyramid and cause unintentional cave ins.

How's the job going? Are you enjoying Dublin? I hope it's all going as well as it can, I hope to see you for Christmas, but I know that being an Auror can be demanding. Don't feel bad if my mother begins guilting you for not coming, she just misses having you around and no doubt Ron and Ginny miss you too. Hopefully, when I'm back in England we can catch up a bit.

\- Bill'

'Dear Bill,

October 2nd, 1990

Sounds like you're getting a lot more action than me. Makes me feel like I should have kept up with Arithmany and Ancient Runes so that I could have joined you. It's very quiet here, not much has stirred and word on the street is that Transylvania is where some attention needs to be placed. I have volunteered to join Mad-Eye out there. He's getting old and grouchy, I expect he's going to retire soon.

Sorry for the short letter, but I can't risk sending much more without it being suspicious. If I do get accepted for the detail in Romania, I won't be able to join you all at Christmas. I hope you understand.

\- Beth'

'Dear Bethany,

December 27th, 1990

Everyone missed you dearly this holiday. Bill has told me that you were accepted to join a task force in Transylvania to follow a lead about dark activity. I hope that you're safe and know that if you're ever in the area, please come and drop by to visit. I tried to send you a present, but it appears as if you had left before. Arthur said that the Auror Office will hold onto your gifts for you, so make certain to pick them up when you return.

Please stay safe and keep in contact with us as much as you can.

Love,

Molly'

'Beth,

June 12th, 1991

It's been a while since I've heard from you... Since any of us have heard from you, so I'm really hoping that everything is going alright. I know you've been out of communication due to your work in Transylvania. I wanted to let you know that I got the job at the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary. I was hoping that if you were still around and had the time that we could meet up. Mom is a bit upset that I'm moving so far and she's losing another child to distance, but I really think she'd perk up if you came to visit her. She really thinks of you as part of the family.

I'll be going to Romania at the end of this month. Ron starts Hogwarts this fall, I know he would love to see you and get some advice on school. He is being indignant and won't listen to Bill or I. Additionally, I think Fred and George are beginning to make him nervous. You know how those two are, they're only growing more wild with age.

\- Charlie'

'Dear Bethany,

September 7th, 1991

Ronald has been Sorted into Gryffindor. You know, it feels like yesterday when you and Bill went to Hogwarts together and I met your lovely mother. Oh, she fretted so much because she didn't understand and I had to do everything in my power, while wrestling several children, to try and calm her down. I can't believe that next year Ginny will be there too.

Ron is also friends with Harry Potter. Can you believe it? I didn't even realize that the boy I helped into Platform 9 ¾ was him, but I was somewhat reminded of you when he came up and asked about how to get to the train. I think that they'll have a fast friendship just like you and Bill did.

I hope you can come to the Burrow for Christmas this year. We really do miss you here.

Love,

Molly'

'Dear Molly,

November 18th, 1991

I'm so sorry that I haven't been able to write more. I'm finally moving post from Romania. I managed to stop by the Dragon Sanctuary and meet with Charlie for a bit. I don't want to scare you, but he's already got a few scars and burn marks on him. Although, I don't think I've ever seen Charlie happier than here. He's really in his own element and the other Dragonologists tell me that he's a natural. He offered to let me handle a baby Norwegian Ridgeback, but I couldn't bring myself to. I don't know why, but dragons are one line I cannot cross.

My next stop is actually still out of the country. I'm going to the States to interact with MACUSA as an ambassador from The Ministry of Magic. I'm going with Kingsly Shacklebolt, so it should be a fun (and much safer) adventure. I don't know how long I'll be in Manhattan, but I expect it'll be another long tour, they seem to love to send me places. Ford keeps writing to me about how he hates being stuck in London and wishes they'd take him instead of me.

Know that you are always in my thoughts and I can't wait to come back. They say that absence makes the heart fonder. I say bollocks on that. Although, I must admit that the hazard pay is good.

Lots of Love,

Beth'

'Dear Ms. Hiddleston,

June 14th, 1992

It is likely that you have heard the disconcerting news from your stay in Manhattan. Being that the Philosopher's Stone is set to be destroyed, I expect they are printing it over in the United States as well. I have heard good things from your superiors and peers. Though Moody has retired, he says that you've picked up his torch. Kingsly is also difficult to impress and marvels at your dedication.

Know that you were right. Our suspicions and fears are coming to light. He is not dead. That much is evident and why we are destroying the Philosopher's Stone. I have recommended to the Auror Office that you be returned to London. However, I suspect that Scrimgeour is going to give a bit of resistance. Your his most active foreign Auror, so I know he would regret pulling you out of the field. If any more dire news arises, I shall write you.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore'

'Beth,

August 1st, 1992

I can't believe it's been more than 2 years since I last saw you. I know I'm the type to get invested in my work, but now I'm beginning to worry. Is everything ok on the Ministry side? Dad doesn't seem to know as much, but even he is becoming more disconcerted than normal. Wherever you are, I hope that you are well and safe. I know it's kind of hopeless to ask that you come visit during the holiday. It seems like Scrimgeour will only bring you back to London when it's time for you to retire.

Ginny starts school this year. I know she'd love to hear from you.

\- Bill'

'Dear Ginny,

October 6th, 1992

I heard you were Sorted into Gryffindor. Someone might have also mentioned that you like Harry Potter. I swear I won't tell anyone, but don't get too distracted by boys. I let that happen to me before I got my head on straight. I also heard about how Ron got a Howler from mom because he took the flying car to school when he and Harry missed the train.

Don't tell mom, but I sent you guys some candy from America. Make sure to split it with Ron and the Twins. And stay out of trouble! I'm going to try and be back for holiday this year, but it's been difficult with work. Let me know how school is going, I should be able to write you while I'm here in Manhattan.

Love,

Beth'

'Dear Bethany,

November 30th, 1992

It looks like Bill is going to be stuck in Egypt for the holiday. Arthur and I have planned to go see Charlie in Romania. I know you were trying so hard to get back in time, but when it's time, we'll all be reunited. Of course, if you're free, you're more than welcome to come visit us in Romania. Bill does miss you a lot though, he's always hopeful you'll turn up when he comes home, but I suppose we all are. All I care about is that you're safe and healthy. Arthur clucks at me for being so overbearing, but you're our family, ever since the day that we added you to the clock.

Love,

Molly

P.S. Ron told me you sent him sweets. He broke his wand and lost the car that Arthur had enchanted! You might not have known, but I don't think he's learned his lesson after getting all those sweets from you.'

'Dear Ms. Hiddleston,

April 28th, 1993

More evidence as risen as is evident by what happened to Ginny Weasley. Fortunately, crisis was all but averted by Mr. Potter, but... I fear this is not the end we will see of Him. I have urged for your extrication to London again.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore'

'Dear Mr. Harry Potter,

May 2nd, 1993

You might not know who I am, but I want to thank you dearly for helping Ginny. My name is Bethany Hiddleston, a close family friend to the Weasleys. I went to school in the same year as Bill and was also close to Charlie. I have heard a lot about you from the family and you sound like an amazing young wizard. Again, I cannot thank you enough for being at the right place at the right time. Ginny is like a little sister to me and I don't know what I would have done if any ill befell her. Unfortunately, due to my job, I've been out of the country for the past few years, which is why I haven't had the honor of meeting you yet. I hope that one day I will be granted that honor.

Sincerely,

Bethany Hiddleston

P.S. I know it's not much, but I've also sent you some treats from America. It's certainly not equal in value to Ginny's life by a longshot, but it's all I can afford to send at the moment.'

'Dear Bethany,

July 13th, 1993

I don't know if you've heard, but Arthur won the lottery in the _Daily Prophet _drawing. It's a modest amount, but enough to take the entire family to Egypt to visit Bill. I heard that you have been relocated again, this time to Tokyo. It's absolutely insane how much they've moved you around and haven't given you any time off. I'm of a mind to write a Howler to Scrimgeour, but Arthur's told me that Dumbledore has also been trying to get you back here for some time.

If he doesn't let you come home within the year, I swear I'm going to ignore Arthur's pleading and march into his office and demand that you finally be let home. It's been too long. Part of me wonders how much you've changed. I expect you're even more lovely than the last time I saw you Beth.

Bill misses you, as we all do. I think the reason he doesn't come home as often is because he doesn't like being here without you.

Stay safe and healthy.

Love,

Molly'

'Bill,

September 5th, 1993

Your mom keeps writing me about how much you miss me. I feel like the older we get, the more she expects that we'll all end up settling down nearby and together. I love reading her letters and how she claims that she's going to attack Scrimgeour if he doesn't bring me back to London within the year. I don't think my stay in Japan is going to be as long as my previous stays. By the latest, I've been told that I'll be back by next fall. Since their latest estimate is fall, I'm guessing maybe I'll be able to turn up for Christmas.

I hope you enjoyed your visit with the whole family. Your family deserves more than just a modest lottery winning for everything they did for me and now it seems everything they're doing for Harry Potter. Have you met him yet? I heard that he's best friends with Ron along with a girl named Hermione Granger. Molly says that Hermione reminds her a bit of me, but Ron wholeheartedly disagrees, saying the only thing we have in common is that we're both Muggleborn and smart.

I'll keep you posted about my arrival date back into London so that way I can find a time to meet up with you.

On a more severe note, Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban. Remember those words I told you during the blizzard after my family's death? I think this correlates to that. I need to get back to London, but Scrimgeour is taking his sweet time. I'm good at learning languages, which is why he keeps deploying me elsewhere. It's kind of annoying. Maybe I should just start playing dumb.

\- Beth

P.S. I have also acquired a Jarvey. I guess they're breeding them in Japan and think they're cute? I suppose they don't know that the Jarveys are shrieking English insults at them, but to each their own...'

'Beth,

October 20th, 1993

Well my mother's not wrong. I do miss you, but I've come to accept that I'm most likely going to never see you again because of your atrocious schedule. I can only imagine how livid Ford is, seeing that he kept requesting to go on all of the foreign embassies. I suspect that you're learning a lot during your travels. And a Jarvey? What are you going to do with it? I mean, mom always complains about gnomes in the garden, so I suppose a Jarvey might be useful at the Burrow.

And we'll see how you getting back in a year goes. It's the same every year, they promise you a date and then go back on their word. But keep me in the loop with what they end up deciding. You would be better employed here while Black is on the loose. Dad is worried that he might be after Harry and so they've put dementors to guard the Hogwarts Grounds. It's a bad move in any case, but Fudge isn't as smart as the last Minister. Part of me wished that Dumbledore was in the position and then you would have been back here long ago.

I'm contemplating taking a job in London at the bank, but I don't know. If things are as you say they might be, I don't want to be too far from the family.

\- Bill'

'Dear Ms. Hiddleston,

May 27th, 1994

I am aware that you will be returning in a couple of months. I must say that this has taken an exceedingly painstaking amount of time to place you where you belong, but I daresay that the experience you have gained will help us against the coming tide. I wanted to inform you that it is not Sirius Black that is the problem. Revealed to me, it is actually Peter Pettigrew who betrayed the Potters those years ago. He was their Secret Keeper. I cannot say much more, but I entreat that when you arrive you do not seem so keen on your search for Mr. Black. I expect he is on foreign sands at the moment hiding.

Please burn this letter upon receiving.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore'


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve.**

* * *

Bill had just recently arrived back in England to join his family for the reunion so that they could all attend the Quidditch World Cup. He had been expecting to help his father make preparations for their stay out in Devon, but found that Arthur was strangely insistent about some weird Ministry party. In all honesty, Bill wanted to relax and maybe take a nap, but there was no shutting up his father once he had become this persistent.

"Hurry up, we're going to be running a bit late and I really don't want to be late," Arthur glanced fervently down at his pocket watch before shoving it back into his pocket. He was dressed as nicely as he could afford, which was a brown set of shabby dress robes.

"What is this party even for?" Bill yawned. He had enough money from work to have purchased a nicer set of dress robes and this was the first time he'd gotten all smart and put it on. However, he could imagine his mother shrieking about his earring and long hair had she been given the chance.

"It's like a mingling... between all the departments. Only happens once every five years," Arthur told his son.

"So why do I have to go? It's obviously for Ministry employees," Bill pointed out.

"Just trust me. Plus I bet you'll run into Tonks and Gosling while we're there," Arthur waved him off, not bothering to give him anymore information. While it was slightly infuriating, Bill would be lying if he wasn't curious why his father was so adamant on taking him to this annual party.

Taking his father's arm, he side along disapparated with him, so that they wouldn't get split up. Despite being a warm and clear summer evening, the Ministry was bustling with well dressed witches and wizards. From all appearances, this was a very high caliber event and Bill was actually glad that he had bothered to put his new robes. on.

The entire first level of the Ministry had been opened up for the workers and whomever they chose to bring with them. A security wizard was still keeping an eye on the festivities, but the lifts had all been locked down. Gentle music from a jazz band lilted in the corner, a smooth swing that was mellow enough to create a pleasant atmosphere without being too loud or jarring.

Servers bustled around with trays of h'orderves and sparkling champagne. Witches old and young were bedecked in elegant gowns to gowns that certainly did not suit their aging bodies, to ones that were so old and outdated that Bill was reminded vaguely of the robes he and Charlie had to wear for the Celestial Ball. When a server passed him, he dexterously swiped a flute of champagne and then arched a brow at his father.

"Why didn't you take mum as your plus one? She would have enjoyed getting ready for this," Bill remarked, taking a sip of the champagne and enjoying how the bubbles danced in his mouth.

But when he turned to look at his father, Arthur was missing. Glancing around for his one lifeline among a tide of Ministry employees, Bill spotted him disappearing into a crowd of coworkers that he was more familiar with. Bill frowned, wondering why his father would insist that he come and then abandon him upon arrival.

So Bill began to wander, checking out the youngest and prettiest witches, who snuck glances at him and giggled as they noticed he was giving them attention. He noticed Cornelius Fudge by the back of his head and the awful lime green bowler's hat that he still sported, even when he was in dress robes.

"And this here is a strapping young Auror. She spent four years travelling around the world. Absolutely astounding dedication to her job. How many languages did you learn while you were abroad?" Cornelius beckoned to a slender young woman beside him.

"Only two, sir," she chuckled.

"Only two! Do you hear how modest she is?" he roared, echoed by the laughter of the others conversing with them.

Bill took another look, puzzled by what he overheard. The woman was in a backless black gown that clung to her athletic frame. Thick hair billowed in waves down her back, a pearly white. Her shoulders were freckled, but aside from that, Bill couldn't really see who it was. He circled round casually to try and glimpse her, noticing that there were quite a few young men (and a few older) who were surrounding the Minister, eyeing the woman with smitten expressions.

Finally, Bill managed to get to a spot where he could utilize his height to spy on her. His stomach twisted itself into knots as he saw the woman beside Cornelius Fudge. Her hair was thick and pale, pulled away from her face in intricate and elegant braids, half of it had fallen down her back in the voluminous waves. The dress curved up in a halter, caressing her slender upper body and falling around her hips. She was tall, her lashes long and dark, fluttering against feline-esc hazel eyes. Her rosy lips pulled up in a bemused smile, like a cat playing with a mouse.

At her wrist was a golden bracelet with butterfly pendants, each butterfly separated by a flower with a Japanese kanji symbols pressed within it. Her arms were laced with a few scars, the most prominent of which was on the palm holding a glass of pinot grigio.

He knew why his father had wanted him to come to this party.

"Are you looking to get back in the field anytime soon?" a wizard nearest to her asked, extremely preoccupied with the plunging neckline on the gown, though it was pressed neatly to her skin and did not rustle when she moved.

"No, I think I'm going to remain in London now. It was fun to get experience around the world, but I've been gone for too long and I have friends I must catch up with. I'm afraid I haven't been the best friend since I haven't returned once in those four years," the woman told him.

"Oh, so that means I'll probably see you around here then?" he followed up.

The corner of her lip twitched, which Bill immediately knew that she was beginning to grow irritated with the man's doddering. However, she recovered quickly and gave him a smile that melted him. "Perhaps after I take my leave. I have been given a paid leave of absence for my work over these last few years."

"Of course on my suggestion," Corneilius followed up quickly. "Scrimgeour would have loved to put you on the scent of Black, but we have plenty of other Aurors that are working on that right now."

Bill's heart was hammering in his chest. He was so close, but he also felt so far. He couldn't approach while she was in the limelight, he had to bide his time, hopefully she would notice him standing in the back and break away. She certainly had quite a few admirers trying to garner her attention.

"If you'll excuse me Minister, there are a few other acquaintances that I would like to speak with this evening," she bid courteously.

"Of course, Ms. Hiddleston. Now, about our most recent work on the World Cup-" he started, stirring the attention of some of the listeners, but most of them followed her with their eyes as she stepped away.

One had actually been stupid enough to follow her, as if her sweet words and coy smiles had actually been more than a facade. They were rudely mistaken when she noticed they were tailing her and she shot them a rueful and venomous glare that stopped him in his tracks. Bill slid between throngs of workers, catching snippets of day to day conversation, and keeping his eye on her until he lost her within the ever shifting crowd.

Bill paused, he was thrilled to see her again and following after her also brought a warmth to him. She hadn't even noticed him yet. Had he changed that much? He swapped his flute out for another.

"You know Weasley, I can tell when someone is following me," a drawling voice sneered from behind him, but it wasn't entirely unfriendly.

Bill whirled around to see Bethany standing behind him, her arms crossed and a dark brow arched at him in amusement. "They teach you that in Auror school?"

Bethany chuckled and for a slight moment, the political mask she had been wearing vanished. She recovered quickly. "No, Moody taught me that. Although he's a bit better given that he's got a magical eye to watch his back," she retorted, drawing just a step nearer.

"The Minister has taken quite a liking to you," he observed, unable to take his eyes from her face.

"The Minister is fond of distractions. I was such for a few minutes. Anything he can do to distract from his nerves and the fact that he foolishly put dementors on the Hogwarts Grounds last year," she raised her glass of wine and finished it. Bill spotted a gleam in her eyes, a gleam that drew him a step toward her.

"I must admit that I was taken for a moment. Although... You had quite a few admirers. I was a bit late to the fanclub," Bill smirked.

Bethany snorted, her eyes glancing past him and toward the milling crowd. There was a dull and bored expression reflected in her eyes. "I'd prefer if you didn't count yourself among a number of those oafs. Did you hear that one beside me? Already trying to figure out my schedule so he could intercept me in the hopes of asking me out to coffee. At least in Tokyo their Ministry was considerably more professional."

"Ah, back in London and already making great new friends among coworkers," Bill said lightly.

"Friends? They sent me away for 4 years. I think Scirmgeour was worried that I would get myself into trouble due to what happened to my family. The reason he wouldn't take me back until now was because he thought I needed time to decompress in anger," she informed him tartly.

"Hm, looks like he was mistaken. You sound quite livid," Bill chuckled.

"At him, yes, at the world? No. I was never as angry as he seemed to think I was. But seeing how the other Ministries operated gave me good insight on how terribly we are doing."

Bill had been mid-sip when she said this, snorting into his champagne before he could stop himself. "Really?" he managed hoarsely, the bubbles burning his throat and nose.

Bethany batted her lashes slowly. "Yes. MACUSA is proactive, very fast acting, and does not delay. They entrust their subordinates to get the job done rather than having the head of the department micromanaging and dictating unimportant details that only hinder investigation. On the other hand, in Japan, they are so sharp and organized that I'm astounded how we function. You ever hear about dark wizards rising in their countries?" A wry smirk twisted at her lips again. "It's because they investigate rumors and don't try to pretend there's no salt in the words of others because they fear what the truth might be."

"Wow, sounds like you should quit your job and become a Curse-Breaker instead. I know someone who works as Gringotts and should be able to get you a job there."

"As fun as slaying mummies and disengaging booby traps sounds, I made a promise, Bill," she reminded him, stepping up alongside of him and gazing out into the crowd. "Change starts from within," she glanced up at him and smiled. "I'm going to make Scrimgeour's life a living hell."

"Moody really did hand off the torch to you, didn't he?" Bill asked.

"I can only hope I don't also inherit the eye, but I suppose that is true in some respects... I've been meaning to visit him again, but I heard he's already had an eventful summer. I know he enjoys his solitude," she remarked. "Although... would you still think I was pretty if I had two mad eyes?" she gestured to herself with a wild grin.

"Only if you kept your eyes closed," Bill chuckled.

Beth closed her eyes. "I suppose that'll work. I can still see you with my mad eyes closed. Maybe I'd just wear a blindfold."

"What are your plans now that you're back in London? You said you had some time off?"

"For starters, I'm going to the Quidditch Cup. You know, get a sense of normality back in my life, see all of the Weasley family again, enjoy myself, maybe drink a little too much, and then I suspect I'll go back to work, seeing that I'm a workaholic."

Bill's spirits lifted even higher at the thought of having Beth reunited with all of the family. "And does my dad know about this... Like you've got a space in our tent and all?"

"Your father brought you here because he knew I would be here, didn't he?"

Bill opened his mouth, but closed it and breathed a laugh. "He was so excited to bring me here. You know, I almost didn't come."

"Oh, you would have regretted that for sure."

"Are you certain? I mean, I'm still mad at you that it's been 4 years," Bill said airily.

Bethany rolled her eyes at him, somehow she had acquired another glass of wine. "I'll go find someone who isn't mad at me if you'd rather-" she made to step away, but Bill reached forward and grabbed her free hand.

"No, you think I'm letting you out of my sight now that you're back? Mum will kill me if you slip away and disappear for another few years," Bill insisted lightly.

"Just for your mother then? I would visit her of course, or I think she'd send me a Howler a day," Beth prompted, again raising a brow at him. "If it was Molly I had wanted to see, your father would have just taken her tonight."

The thought of his mother seeing Beth in the crowd was comical. She would have bowled over all the admirers and stolen Beth away from the entire party had she been there. "For me," he raised the hand he held and pressed his lips to the back of it. Her skin was soft beneath his mouth, his eyes on her as he performed the action. His heart burned in his chest and he wondered what her reaction would be.

A different smile creased Beth's face. The shields had been lowered and this was a real smile, a glimmer of the old Beth that he had known from their years at Hogwarts. He released her hand and she drew it back to her chest as if it had been burned. Clearing her throat she glanced into the crowd, a bit of color creeping across her fair freckled cheeks. "Do you wanna ditch this place?"

"And go where?" Bill asked.

She gave him a mischievous smirk. "There's no fun in telling, is there?" Offering her hand again, she drew him through the party, throwing smiles in the direction of those that greeted them. She slid her glass onto a platter and they glided out from the din of the party. Before Bill realized what was happening a loud crack had him tugged away from the Ministry of Magic and he was suddenly beneath a star filled summer sky.

They had apparated underneath the large tree in the backyard of the Burrow. Bill glanced around the trunk of the old tree and saw the lights of the Burrow illuminated in the windows. Beth took a seat on the ground, caring little for her dress as she leaned her back against the trunk and stared up into the sky complacently.

Pulling his eyes and turning his back to the Burrow, he sat down beside her, stretching out his long legs. "This was your great idea?"

"Perfect, right? I haven't seen this place in ages," Beth grinned, winking at him impishly.

"You know what... It is perfect," Bill admitted, reaching over and wrapping his arm around Beth's slender shoulders so that he could pull her close. She eased into him, kicking off her heels so that her slender feet stuck out in the grass dappled by the moonlight. Resting his cheek on the top of the intricate braids crowning her, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, drinking in her smells; rain, old books, wild roses, and a hint of dried lime.

Maybe distance had made the heart grow fonder. It had been back in their 5th year that Bill realized how stupid he had been. Sitting next to him everyday was a brilliant witch and it had taken her putting a dress on for him to realize that. She'd been disappointed in him, that much was obvious. However, with the death of her family and her new found ambition, he understood that Beth didn't want distractions. A part of him had given up, believing that Beth would remain solitary for the remainder of her life. Once they had graduated, exchanging letters had become their only method of contact and he was embarrassed at the fact that he did tell his mother how much he missed her when he was back in Devon.

His mother wanted him to end up with Beth. She was already part of the family, why not make it official? Bill didn't want to fill her head with expectations that might never come to fruition and with each passing year that she was gone, he yearned to see her even more. It was so strange, being around someone nearly everyday for 7 years, to suddenly be a world apart for many years after.

"Bill?" Beth stirred slightly.

"Hm?" he was enjoying how her head rested in the crook of his arm and how she was leaned against him. He'd lost track of time.

"I think we should go inside before everyone goes to bed," Beth told him.

"We could just stay here all night," the counter offered.

"Mm, no. You're not the only Weasley I have to appease. Your mother's fury scares even me," she lifted her head and urged him to get up by upsetting the comfortable balance of how they had been sitting. She bent over and picked up her heels, hooking them on one finger before she got up, extending a hand to him.

Bill was pulled to his feet and they rounded toward the Burrow. Lights shimmered in the windows and Bill was eager to see the reactions of the family as they walked in. He paused, turning to Beth. "Let me go in first," he suggested, reaching for the door. The shadow of his mother in the kitchen made a grin spread across his face.

She arched a brow curiously at him, but nodded.

Bill opened the door to find that his mother was still making preparations for their trip for the World Cup. She had a polka dotted smock on and turned her attention to Bill. "Back already?" she asked. "Where's your father? Is he with you too?" she had a tray of cookies in her hands.

"No actually, I've brought someone else," Bill glanced to the door and Beth waltzed in.

When he glanced back at his mother she was so startled that the cookies went flying over her head along with the tray. A loud clatter stirred the house as she frantically threw herself at the young woman. "_Beth!_" she screamed, wrapping her arms around Beth's slender form, so tightly that Bill though his mother was going to snap her in half.

"Oi, what's the ruckus in here?" Ginny asked coming from the den to see what had happened. Her eyes widened when she saw who her mother was fretting over. "Beth?" she breathed, as if saying the name would make her vanish.

Molly had only just released Beth. "None other," she smiled.

Ginny was next to fling herself at Beth, though she wasn't as rough as Molly had been. "Ron! Ron get in here!" she shouted, turning her head away from Beth for a moment. "What was it like travelling? Do you have any cool trinkets with you?"

"It's good to be back… I'm afraid I haven't brought anything with me right now, but I do have things in my flat. Bill kidnapped me from a Ministry party," she told Ginny, sneaking a glance over at him.

He couldn't help but smile, even though precisely the opposite had happened.

"I believe it," Ginny snorted, giving him a sideways look that suggested he was up to no good. "You probably had to twist his ear to come here."

"A bit-"

"Ginny what are you hollering about?" Ron was coming down the stairs now, two other silhouettes hidden behind him. "Bloody hell! I thought you were dead or something!" Ron cursed as he set eyes on Beth. "You're all dressed up though. Were you at some sort of event?"

"Nothing too important," Beth waved off nonchalantly. "You've all grown up."

"You've been gone for a long time," Ginny reminded her.

"It's not her fault," Molly piped up, forgetting about the cookies on the floor.

"Na, that'll be the Ministry, right? Harry, this is the Auror I was telling you about," Ron and his friends came down the stairs. The girl had bushy brown hair and warm eyes, which were curious but also perceptive and sharp. The boy was lanky and had a mess of black hair, green eyes flashing beneath his round wire framed glasses; Harry Potter. "Beth these are my best friends, Harry and Hermione."

Beth brushed Ginny on the shoulder before crossing the kitchen to meet new friends. "A pleasure to meet you two..." she paused, glancing between them before a smile unfolded. "Hermione... I've heard a lot about you. Sounds like you're going to give Bill a run for his money when it comes to O.W.L.s. and N.E.W.T.s. achieved."

Hermione's cheeks turned pink as she shook Beth's hand and then glanced at Bill. "Oh, I don't know about that."

"You're the smartest witch in our year, I bet you could," Ron proclaimed.

"Bill got 12 didn't he, though?" Hermione asked quietly.

"It's just a number," Bill took a seat at the table and waved it off. "Beth was always better at Transfiguration and Potions."

"You were taking 12 classes and I was taking 7," she replied dryly, but then devoted her attention to the second friend. "A pleasure to finally meet you Harry. I've heard plenty of good things about you from the family."

Harry smiled at her and Bill rather thought it was because he was admiring how she was dressed and looked. "I remember your letter from over a year ago. Ron told me you were like an older sister to him... And your face is on the Weasley clock too. Are you married to Bill or Charlie?"

It was an innocent enough question, which was met with a slightly awkward silence. "No she's not married to either of them, though I don't think they'd be too nonplussed by the arrangement," Fred and George appeared on the stairs too. "Mum and dad took her in some years ago. After..."

"After my family was killed by Death Eaters," Beth filled in smoothly, unbroken by the truth of her words.

"Tea? Does anyone want tea?" Molly had finished collecting the ruined cookies.

"That sounds lovely," Beth smiled before coming round the table to sit next to Bill.

"Damn Hids, did a ghost spook you? Your hair's gone white," George took a seat across from them.

"Yeah, the ghost was called the Auror Exam," Beth retorted, everyone had begun to fill the table, even Harry and Hermione were interested in her arrival.

"Sounds terrifying," Fred pretended to shudder.

"And I've heard that the two of you have been up to no good," Beth smirked.

"Guilty as charged. You going to throw us into Azkaban for it?" George prompted.

"I might... Afterall, those candies you sent me made me throw up for an hour before I could figure out how to make it stop. That's assault on an Auror you know," Beth's smile grew wider.

"You what!?" Molly rounded nose, her eyes blazing as they fixated on the Twins. "You sent Bethany some of your wretched experiments?"

"We were kind of hoping she'd have to come back to the Burrow to get the antidote. Should have figured that her training in healing magics would have helped her," Fred murmured, but he didn't look apologetic in the slightest.

"So, what are your plans now that you're back in England?" Ginny asked her eagerly.

"I've got some time off and plan to spend some of it at the World Cup with you all before school begins," Bethany informed her, delighted smiles appearing from the Weasleys around the table. "Where's Charlie and Percy?"

"Percy started work in the Department of International Magical Cooperation under Barty Crouch," Molly brimmed with pride as she presented the information.

"Oh, so he's busy helping with the preparations for the World Cup then?"

"Yes he is," Molly smiled. "Charlie should be here in a couple of days."

"I got here before Charlie?" Beth arched a brow, clearly amused by this.

"We saw Charlie just last year, not gonna cut is Hids," Fred told her sharply.

"What am I going to have to do to make it up to you two?" she sighed.

"You shouldn't have asked them that," Bill breathed, watching as the Twins grinned wildly and then turned to each other to confer.

"We heard you acquired Jarvey..." Fred began.

"Why you want him?"

"You'd give him to us?" George asked, puzzled.

"Yeah, he's a wanker," Beth shook her head. "But the Japanese love Jarveys! I really don't know why."

Molly returned with tea for the table, unaware of the transaction that had just occurred. She took a seat and gazed over joyfully at Bethany. "Beth, how were your travels? You must tell us what it was like going to all of these foreign places."

Beth inhaled deeply. "It's a bit of a long story," but when she glanced down the table, everyone was leaning in to hear what she was saying. "But I suppose I'll begin with Dublin-"

She launched into her work in Ireland before being relocated in Transylvania. There was a large vampire population there given the weather and history, which caused a lot of problems. Along with Moody she had been trying to help restore order between wizardkind and the vampires, as many attacks on people were being blamed on the vampires. She left for MACUSA when they seemed to be getting nowhere.

Where she had been the field for over a year, her time in MACUSA was more political. She got to work alongside of American Aurors and handle some cases with them across the country. Otherwise she was in Manhattan, experiencing the vastly different city life when compared to London. Beth got off on a bit of a tangent as she was asked questions about New York and America in general. Because she spent so much time there, the conversation hovered over it for a while.

Eventually, when she moved onto Japan, it was obvious that she had really enjoyed the culture and work ethic. America wasn't too far off from England, but Japan was another world. Her favorite part from Japan aside from the culture was the food. She wasn't given as much freedom in America and did a lot of paperwork with their Ministry and writing reports on what many might consider mundane disturbances.

"So you weren't like... duelling all the time?" Ron asked, a bit disappointed.

"What? Did you think that Aurors are constantly fighting Dark Wizards?" Hermione asked him sharply.

"I dunno, I just expected that if they kept her away so long it was for some super secret mission," Ron shrugged, cheeks burning from the sting of her words.

"It's good that she wasn't constantly fighting Dark Wizards," Harry pointed out lightly. "Though America did present some unique situations."

"Comes with the territory. America is so large that there's bound to be something always happening," Beth reasoned before stifling a yawn.

"Look at the time, I can't believe we've been sitting here for three hours," Molly squeaked when she looked at the clock. "Beth, are you staying here? I might have room-"

"I have my tent for the World Cup back at my flat. I can go there quickly and grab my things and change, then I'll stay outside. You've already got a lot of people staying here, no reason to make anyone uncomfortable," Bethany told her, standing up and stretching.

"Bill, why don't you go with Beth and give her a hand?" Molly suggested.

Bill's lips twitched before he smiled and stood up. He knew what she was suggesting, even if she'd turned around and gone back to cleaning the teacups. She didn't want Beth out of anyone's sight and she also wanted him to spend time with her alone.

"Just give me a moment to change out of my dress robes," Bill told Beth.

"Hermione, I'll grab those magazines for you too while I'm there. I think you'll find them interesting," Beth was saying to Ron's friend as Bill slipped by and hurried to his old bedroom. Whenever he was back in the country, he would utilize this room and share it with Charlie. He traded his dress robes for comfortable trousers and a light coat before glancing in the mirror. Why was he fussing about how he looked? He never really thought much of it. His long red hair was secured back in a low ponytail and he still had his fang earring in. He wondered if Beth thought it was stupid like his mother did.

Bill went back down the stairs and found Beth waiting for him, deep in conversation with Hermione. "Right, the theory is different when it comes to living objects vs inanimate. It's always easier to a living creature into an item, but not the reverse."

"I find conjuration of live animals the most challenging, but I think what you've just told me might help significantly," Hermione smiled broadly. "Will... _Would _you mind if I talked to you some more about Transfiguration?"

"Of course not, it's my favorite subject," Beth's eyes lifted and she settled on Bill. "Ready to go?"

He nodded.

"Molly we'll be back in a bit," Beth called to her in the Scullery.

"You better!"

Exiting the Burrow, Beth offered her hand to Bill once again. The moment he had securely grabbed onto it he was torn away from his family home, through the darkness of the night, and toward London. When they stopped careening, they were in Diagon Alley, which at night was a completely different place. The streets were illuminated by the lamp posts and the stores were all closed. Even Gringotts was especially imposing as they passed by it and continued further than the alley than he'd ever bothered to venture.

These were all residential buildings.

Beth stopped in front of a building with peeling juniper blue paint and pulled out a key. She unlocked the door, a tendril from the planter reaching toward them before she flicked it away. She lifted her wand and lit the sconces on the walls, revealing the 1st floor flat that she had on Diagon Alley.

"Sorry it's a bit of a mess. I never really got the chance to unpack," she mused.

The entrance had led them into a den area that was open to a small eat in kitchen where boxes were stacked on the counter. She didn't have too many belongings, just some furniture in the living area. Bill sat down on one of the armchairs as she disappeared into the bedroom. There was a leather photo diary on the tea table in front of him.

Bill leaned over and picked it up, blowing off the layer of dust that had claimed it. When he flipped it open he found himself tumbling back through time. Inside of it were newspaper clippings, specifically the pictures with the headings. The first was of a very little Beth standing beside Professor McGonagall with a copy of _Transfiguration Today _in her hands. Young Beth was smiling, but appeared very nervous and shy. It was when her first articles had been published. Bill continued through the book, quite a few were articles and pictures when there were some, of Beth.

He found a school picture from Beth's 4th year of her and Ford, which was in color. Not too far after that was a picture of him, Charlie, and Beth in their later years at Hogwarts. It was so strange, almost like looking through time as he continued to flip through it

"Oh, you found that old thing?" Beth asked, appearing in a change of clothes.. She had loosened all of the braids in her hair and it fell around her face frizzy and wavy.

"Yeah, I didn't know there were so many pictures of us all," Bill marveled.

"Your mother actually made that for me," Beth said, she was in a loose fitting shirt and trousers, more becoming of pajamas than outside clothes. She took a ribbon and tied back her thick hair in a ponytail. She set a backpack on the counter and rummaged through it. "Alright... I should be all set."

"That's all you're bringing?" Bill inquired, setting the book down. "Unless..."

"It's got an Extension Charm," she filled in. "Perks of working for the Ministry. They did owe me," she muttered grudgingly.

"How long have you had this place for?" he asked her.

"Since I got back so all... a day? And most of that day I spent in debriefs," Beth rolled her eyes. "When I finally get it in order, I'll have you over for tea... Whenever you're around in London."

"I was thinking of taking a desk job," Bill told her as they left the flat, Bethany locking the door behind them.

She gave him a bemused stare. "You? Take a desk job?" The idea sounded hilarious when she repeated it, but he had his reasons.

"If what you think is true... From your letter... I want to be close if something happens," Bill admitted as they walked aimlessly down Diagon Alley at midnight in the summer.

"You're welcome to have lunch at my flat then since it's a short walk," Beth shrugged nonchalantly. "I do admit, it would be nice to see you for more than the span of the World Cup."

"I'd like to see more of you too," Bill said honestly before extending his hand. "My turn?"

"Sure," she took his hand and he focused on the Burrow, the warmth and clutter of the house, and the tall summer grass. They appeared in the garden again and Beth wasted no time pulling out the tent parts from her bag and setting them on the ground. She moved a bit slower, clearly tired from the endeavors of the day.

"Let me help you," Bill offered, beginning to put together the tent. When the pieces had been laid out, he drew his wand and assembled them. Beth had taken up post on the other side so that they could align the parts in tandem.

She murmured an incantation, likely to activate the charms within as the fabric stretched itself along the poles. From all appearances, it was a dark amber Muggle tent. Keeping a light at the end of her wand, she gave Bill a weary smile. He came round the tent to bid her goodnight.

"Night Bill, I'll see you in the morning," she yawned, covering her mouth as she made to enter her tent.

Bill caught her by the arm and turned her back around before she could escape. A part of him was worried that in the morning she wouldn't be there and that this would be the last time for another few years that he'd get to see her. He drank in her features, the freckles on her fair cheeks, the way the moonlight danced in her wavy ivory hair, and her warm hazel eyes. He pulled her in a tight embrace. "You better be here in the morning," he murmured.

"I'm not leaving anytime soon," she promised and he could take her at her word. Beth had never been the type to break oaths. She drew back slightly, reminding him faintly that she was quite tall for a woman. "Good night," she lifted the flap and disappeared within the tent, leaving Bill to stare at it for a few silent moments. He didn't want to leave her, remembering the warmth of her against him when they had been sitting beneath the tree.

He turned to go back into the Burrow.

* * *

The fronds of sunlight filtering in through the window caught him in the face and caused him to stir from his slumber. Rubbing his eyes, it took Bill a moment to remember that Beth was here. He hastily got dressed, ran his fingers through his hair, and freshened up before he headed down into the kitchen. He could tell it was going to be a fair day and from the looks of it, some of his siblings were enjoying the morning outside. On the other hand, Beth was in the kitchen with his mother, trying her best at casting house charms and spells, but failing rather miserably.

For all the talent she had in Transfiguration, she couldn't seem to get the sponge to properly scrub the plates. Instead, the sponge was slapping against the plate like a fish out of water, splattering water all over the counter. Beth was trying to fix the broom that was banging against some pots, unaware of the fiasco at the sink.

"Good morning," he smiled.

Beth turned abruptly, her cheeks tinged pink as she tried to get control of the cleaning supplies. She was wearing a loose black tank top tucked into a pair of high waisted jeans, ivory hair pulled up in a high ponytail. A beaded necklace had been wrapped around her forearm a few times, a cross hanging from it. On her opposite forearm was a tattoo of a simple black cross, which Bill assumed was covered while she had worn the dress.

Bill simply gestured in the direction of the sink, watching as she became more frazzled, uncertain of how to remedy the solution. His only assumption for the Muggle attire was that they were going to be off to the campground today. In fact, the noise of his siblings had vanished and he could no longer see them out the window.

His mother reappeared and noticed that Beth was also having trouble. With a whip of her wand, she put everything back into working order and smiled, albeit hopelessly, at Beth who released the broom and allowed it to continue dusting its way through the house.

"Charlie should be here soon," his mother began, glancing out the window. "Your father just brought all the underaged children with him to utilize the Port Key nearby. Once Charlie arrives we can also join them."

"Do you need help with anything else?" Beth offered.

Molly tried to seem as if she couldn't think of anything. However, Bill saw through her stalling. She was trying to let Beth down gently without telling her that her 'help' was making more of a mess. "No, I think I've just about wrapped up," she said finally. "Why don't you two go for a walk? It's a very nice morning."

Bill had been hoping for some food, but because he had woken up late he supposed this was his mother's revenge. He stood up, Beth hovering over his mother before resigning herself to the front door.

"You could take a page or two out of those homemaking books my mother has on the shelves," Bill teased her as they stepped out into mild morning air.

"Shut it or I'll turn you into a frog," Beth muttered sharply, clearly flustered that she hadn't been good at something.

That, he knew she was perfectly capable of.

"Have you given more thought to staying in England?" Beth asked as they began their walk, wandering away from the Burrow.

"Between last night and sleeping?"

"Well, you slept for quite a while."

They crested a hill that overlooked the Burrow, hiding it from view of most Muggles who would have to go past many rolling hills and lush meadows to find it. Beth was looking down at a glade that was in between a few foothills.

"Let's go down there," she suggested, starting toward it without waiting for an answer from him. Beth bent over among a patch of wild flowers and Bill had a sudden urge.

"We should duel," Bill suggested abruptly.

Beth stood, holding a front of marigold between her fingers. "You want to duel?" she asked, to see if she had heard correctly.

All those years ago she had gone to him to help, to learn how to duel better, and he'd guided her in the right direction. Now that she had become an Auror, he wondered if she'd progressed further or still remained beneath his own skill set. The fire in the pit of his stomach was the old rivalry that had always been there, but in the years it had waned with her absence. "Yes."

Beth reached into her pocket and drew her wand, pale teal silk fluttering from the handle. "I warn you, I've learned a few new tricks."

"Tricks from Mad-Eye? I'd like to see them since I taught you everything else you know about duelling," Bill countered, drawing his own wand.

"You have a grand image of yourself, Bill. It'd be a shame if I knocked it and that smile right off of your face," Beth took a duelling stance and waited for him to mirror.

"We'll see about that," Bill smiled, bringing one leg back and raising his arm forward.

For a moment, they both watched each other for the slightest twitch or hint of movement. The wind blew through the grass rippling it like waves, a slight distraction. Bill tested the waters, "_Expelliarmus_!"

A scarlet light flashed from the end of his wand, but it was readily deflected by Beth's silent shield charm. She gave him an infuriating smirk. "Really now?" she taunted.

"Someone had to make the first move," he shrugged.

"I'm more surprised you had to use the incantation," she jested arrogantly.

Heat flooded to Bill's face, but he wasn't embarrassed. Instead, he was invigorated by her challenge, the idea of a duel without words. His own work never elicited duelling much, so he wondered if he had gotten rusty whereas Beth had kept her skills as sharp as a tack.

Beth struck next, a fiery orange light exploding from the tip of her wand, smashing into the shield that Bill placed in front of him. He was forced backward through the grass from the force of it, looking through the smoke to find yet another explosion hurling at him. Using the cover of the dust and dirt that had been kicked up, Bill sidestepped and aimed a spell at her meant to throw her backward. The force of the blow to her shield charm sent her stumbling back a few steps.

He aimed at the ground in front of her, an area that she wouldn't defending and blasted it open, grass and soil erupted from the spot and Bill tried to come around Beth while she was trying to see through the haze. However, she wasn't there. His head whipped around as he tried to find where he needed to aim. She couldn't have turned herself invisible could she?

A whizzing sound to his right caught his attention. The blades of grass that had been uprooted sailed at him and sliced at his face like tiny razors. He managed to fend off the last of the pieces, but when he looked for Beth again, he found himself turning circles. Something heavy struck him from behind and sent him flying face down into the grass. He twisted, trying to see what it was, but the pressure was steady and resolute.

When he managed to get his head turned just enough he could glimpse a dark form, a creature perched upon him. A low rumble resounded in the back of the animal's throat before it was content with victory. It released him just enough that he could turn over and gaze into the maw of the enormous feline that had pinned him. The hairs on the back of his neck rose and he slowly reached for the wand that he had dropped. Had Beth transfigured something to take the form of this large cat? His fingers had just tightened around the handle of his wand when it relented, drawing back and shifting back into the witch he had been duelling.

Beth was laughing uncontrollably, rolling off him and into the grass beside him so that she could wipe her eyes. "Oh I wish you could have seen your face, Bill."

"You're an Animagus?" he breathed, his heart still hammering in his chest from the sight of a black panther attacking him. "Since when?"

"I have been for years now. I learned during our 5th year," Beth informed him as if this were public knowledge. "I've been using it to move faster in duels. Especially when it's dark, it's difficult to see where I've moved."

"You learned this in our 5th year and you didn't tell me?"

"I sort of had other things on my mind," Beth reminded him. "And I didn't want to go telling everyone. It's best if fewer people know, that way I can utilize the skill to its fullest potential. Just as you saw. You had no idea I was an Animagus, so you weren't expecting an attack of that nature."

It was a clever strategy and had he truly been a Dark Wizard, he could only imagine those enormous claws tearing into his flesh and those fangs sinking into his flesh. When she was that close, she could disengage any wizard before he had the chance to reach for his wand. "What other secrets are you keeping?"

"Perhaps a few more," Beth teased before climbing to her feet and stretching, much like a cat that had finished basking in the sun after a long nap.

For some reason, in light of his defeat, Bill felt as if this might be the right moment. "Let's say I do end up getting a desk job," he began, watching as Beth glanced down a thim. "Would you consider going out with me? I know during school you didn't want any distractions but-" but now they were adults and progressed into their jobs. If she didn't want any distractions she wouldn't have come back to the Burrow and wouldn't have been duelling him for fun.

"You think I'd date someone I just defeated in a duel?" Beth mused, crossing her arms at him.

"I underestimated your growth over the years. In one way or another," she had changed. This wasn't the sweet and naive Beth that he'd grown up with. He had always been fond of her, how easy it was for them to get along and how they could always pick each other's brains about their studies. She was one of the truly scholarly students in attendance at Hogwarts that didn't get annoyed by complex theories or entertaining his thoughts about spell combinations. There had always been a fierce loyalty to her, one that he had admired from the beginning. Be it friends or family, she was just ferocious as any badger could be when they felt their kin were being threatened.

Now, Bill saw more of the badger, feisty and headstrong. Her confidence attracted him as well as her impish comments and clever retorts. He could relax and be himself. One moment they could be duelling another, while another just sitting in the grass in their own individual thought bubbles. For some reason, Bill had always been attracted to strong women and it had just taken Beth more time to blossom into the impeccable Auror that she was today. The treacherous Rakepick had nothing on Hiddleston, because Bill knew that he could always rely upon Beth. Her passion drove her to the point of obsession, and her passion was to help people, to protect them, be they her family or an innocent stranger.

"So you're saying that you didn't use your full strength against me?" she mused, a half grin curving the corners of her lips.

"I might be," he lied smoothly. He hadn't had the chance to experience many duels without using incantations. In truth, he was in much shabbier shape than he would have liked.

"Well, I'll have to think about it," she said airily, waving her wand around in a manner that borderline infuriated him. "Do you think Charlie has made it to the Burrow yet? While I've got the both of you in one place, there's a spell I've been wanting to teach you two."

"Let's find out," he got to his feet and dusted the dirt from off of him.

"Just a moment Weasley," Beth pointed her wand toward him and he froze, wondering what she was going to do. "Your face got a bit cut up from that spell I used to distract you. _Episkey_!"

He had barely paid any heed to the fine cuts on his cheeks, but their faint stinging resided and when he brushed his fingers against his cheek, he found that there was no blood. "Those healing skills are going to come in handy," he remarked.

"Precisely why I put the time in at St. Mungo's. I must admit, I'm not as talented as some of the mediwizards that have been there for years... I lack the experience. However, when it comes between the point of life and death, I think the extra knowledge will help," she explained as they started back up a hill, leaving the once peaceful glade ravaged and a turned over mess.

It took them a few minutes to get back to the Burrow. Upon entering, they were pleased to find that Charlie had arrived. Bill had seen his brother just a year ago when the family had come to visit him in Egypt. Over the years he had really filled out. Bill was tall, but Charlie was stout and stocky. Bill liked to think he had a lean frame from his constant work in the crypts, but between Quidditch and handling dragons, Charlie's muscles dwarfed his.

"How's Romania been treating you?" he asked his brother who stood up and embraced him. "You've got more scars I see."

"More than I can count now," Charlie chuckled. "Merlin's pants, is that you Beth?"

"White hair a give away?" she drawled sardonically, swinging her ponytail slightly.

"It's quite a bit longer than last I saw it. Wow, I didn't think you'd be back in time for the Cup," Charlie passed by Bill and hugged Beth. She stood at a similar height, no, she was slightly taller than Charlie. "Are you back, back? Not going to be shipped anywhere soon?"

"Yes, got myself a flat in Diagon Alley. I'm staying in London. Scrimgeour will have to curse me before I'll leave again," Beth retorted, a defiant tone in her voice for her superior.

Molly appeared back in the kitchen and gasped with absolute delight. "Oh! Just a minute you three!" she squeaked, hurrying into the other room to go find a very old camera that had been lying around since the last holiday. "I want a picture of you all. Just like when you were back in school. Come on, let's go out in the garden!" She shooed them out the front door before they could continue their conversations and catch up.

Molly was adamant about preserving the timeline of her children growing up, as was evident by all of the pictures around the Burrow. There were a couple of Bill, Charlie, and Beth, but most of them were when they were in their teen years. Gesturing to the largest tree in the yard, Molly put Bill on the right and Charlie on the left.

"Smile for me!" Molly's voice didn't really break the awkwardness of this all.

Instead, it was Beth as she jumped up and hooked her arms around the necks of both of them men with a big smile, drawing them in and causing them to both laugh. The camera flashed, capturing the chuckling trio. Charlie passed Bill a glance and much like they'd done to Ginny when she was little, they grabbed Beth from underneath and hoisted her up into the air as their mother was fanning the picture that had spit out of the camera.


End file.
